


Lemongrass and Sleep

by vampirexchild



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Bottom Frank Iero, Coming Out, Cunnilingus, F/F, Gay Panic, Internalized Homophobia, Mutual Masturbation, Pining, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29274174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampirexchild/pseuds/vampirexchild
Summary: Frankie was the epitome of young perfection until Geralyn came along and either fucked it all up or rescued her from what could’ve been her doom.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	1. Lemongrass and Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, gay panic and internalized homophobia. I think plenty of us have been there. I hope you enjoy this first part!

Frankie was in the midst of an existential crisis. Perhaps she exaggerated the situation in her mind for it see far more dramatic than the actuality of it, knowing a secure person wouldn't have such trouble figuring it out, but Frankie tended to be the most dramatic person on the planet. Every minor inconvenience had a detrimental effect on her frail heart and her anxious behavior, and when she wailed to her best friends about her dilemmas, they came to her aid with rolling eyes and long sighs while they stroked her hair and pampered her back to a placid state.

The issue was probably the worst she'd ever come across, however, because her entire identity balanced on a fine line above cascading waters rushing at a violent speed. Suddenly, everything Frankie knew about herself because questionable, thrown through a loop where she felt like a stranger in her own skin. The conflicting thoughts racing through her restless mind caused her to lose precious sleep, to the point where she wondered how much longer she'd be plagued with a situation she had no idea how to resolve. The dilemma was within herself, a case of searching for what she truly desired out of life and where her heart rested, but there was no way for an eighteen year old to figure it all out when she barely survived the stress of applying for colleges. Even that seemed simple in comparison. Choosing a career wasn't nearly as challenging as relearning herself in such a short time frame.

Frankie's life was ideal before the storm struck. She was a young and attractive girl mastering the art of rock and roll with every instrument she could get her hands on, trotting across a football field by night in a peppy striped skirt matching the school colors, kissing boys and never settling with one to keep up with the thrill of being desired. It was a selfish human need to feel wanted, and Frank relished in it, like an urge she couldn't shrink down. Frankie had loyal friends she'd known since kindergarten, and all of them searched for something similar in life; music and success. Frankie had a perfect standing GPA landing her repetitive honor roll certificates, her parents absolutely adored her, and her ancient dog Sweet Pea she had since she was six was somehow still sluggishly pattered up and down the stairs, sleeping beside her at night to keep her company and provide her warmth layers of blankets couldn't exude. There wasn't an existing flaw in Frankie's life and she was content, minus the inevitable teenage angst arriving with trivial problems that seemed like the end of the world to her, mostly because she was partially spoiled by being graced with an easygoing lifestyle.

Then, on a day where Frankie was completely unsuspecting, the clouds suddenly knitted together in menacing blurs of gray engulfing her blue skies, swallowing up the radiant sunshine warming her skin. The thunder rumbled hidden under the blanket of storm clouds, and when lightening struck the ground, the earth beneath Frankie's feet never ceased its shaking. It began to split, an impending doom leaping right towards her, while the goddess responsible for the destruction of Frankie's world stared her right in the eye.

A new yet familiar girl moved back into town to live with her mother instead of her father who lived a few cities over. She was Mikey Way's sibling, an older sister transferring schools for her senior year, starting fresh for a reason unknown to the students murmuring the very little known facts about the girl shared reluctantly by her brother. They snorted haughtily at her name, Geralyn, and the girls were quick to slander her sense of effortless confidence, taking it as a threat it seemed from the way they viewed it. To them, she was conceited and harbored a strong probability of 'slutting it up' with the boys once she settled in. Frankie rolled her eyes when she caught onto the whispers in the locker room and sharply snapped her fingers at them, slamming them back down to reality by calling their misogynistic comments hypocritical for a bunch of girls who claimed to be feminists. She marched off to Art Appreciation class with their stares drilling into her back and a winning smirk faintly splayed on her face.

Little did she know that the girl she defended without a second thought would tear her world asunder in mere seconds.

Frankie was barely settled into her seat in class when it happened. She tossed her backpack into the vacant desk beside her since no one claimed it, there weren't enough students to occupy all of the seats. She was barely setting out her materials when Geralyn waltzed into the room with a smile way too anticipating and radiant for someone attending high school, which was practically a laid back prison wrangling up teenagers and locking them up in stuffy classrooms where their demise was pure boredom over a lethal injection. 

She was a shock of long cherry red hair falling in stylish waves down the middle of her back in a loose ponytail and fair skin with the faintest tan adding a golden tone into the blend of strawberries and ivory. She was embellished in a strange arrangement of a flowing black dress that cascaded to the middle of her shins, white daisies dotting the delicate fabric resting in ruffles at the hem, and worn black sneakers doodled all over with white soles beginning to yellow from age. A baggy leather jacket swallowed up the top of her body and made her appear smaller than she likely was judging from her height, scraped up at the shoulders exactly where the strap of her back was resting, meaning she must've worn it to school often. When she turned to look over the class curiously, her glossy lips pursed and a tendril of red hair loosely dangled towards her rounded jawline, a choker and a daisy necklace matching her dress curled loosely around her elegant pale neck.

Frankie immediately squirmed when they made eye contact. She wasn't certain why her curiosity seemed to solidify and drop low in her stomach frazzling her nerves, or why blood rushed rapidly into her cheeks when Geralyn smirked slightly at her before she turned away to introduce herself to the teacher setting up their lesson at his computer.

She stammered and quickly dropped her eyes down to her desk. Frankie's wide eyes couldn't shrink to a normal size where her heart stuttered — she never reacted that way before, except for one incident with a friend she drunkenly kissed a year ago, but she always imagined it was because she was so far gone that she'd mistaken her for a boy she'd been flirting with for some time, since her friend tended to present herself less femininely. Frankie suspected for a fleeting second that it must've been because she was caught taking in Geralyn's outfit, and maybe Geralyn took it as Frankie checking her out. She desperately grasped onto that reason and stuck with it to slow her hammering heart. Yes, there was no one in the world who didn't react to being caught staring. Frankie drew in a quiet deep breath and relaxed her shoulders. She was perfectly fine, just anxious, that's all.

"Are you saving this seat for someone?" A voice Frankie wasn't familiar with chimed beside her.

Frankie automatically looked up with her eyebrows raised in question, only for her mind to come to a crashing halt sounding like shattering glass ricocheting through her skull. Geralyn was standing directly beside Frankie in the aisle, one brow raised as her question lingered in the air to be answered. Her eyes were ringed in insanely perfectly applied dark eyeshadow and glitter dotted her cheekbones, catching the light beams steaming in from the window adjacent to her. It was then that Frankie processed the color of her eyes was a deep hazel green that could've easily been mistaken for chocolate brown depending on the lighting, but there was certainly a film of emerald green swimming in them, unique eyes framed by a sweep of long lashes curled at the tips.

Holy fucking shit, Frankie screamed at herself internally, and fought to turn off her constant noticing.

"Uh — no, no, the seat's not taken." Frankie's wobbly voice tripped over her words. "I just keep my backpack there. Sorry."

Frankie yanked the bag out of the seat swiftly and dragged it between her feet. She knew she should've pretended the seat was occupied, but she would come off as horribly rude when class carried on and no one ever came to claim it. Frankie was befuddled by Geralyn choosing to sit right beside her when there were two other rows of vacant desks to choose from. Maybe she didn't like the isolation? Had the teacher instructed her to sit beside someone?

Geralyn dropped down onto the chair and slung her bag across the back of it after retrieving a pencil bag and a notebook. She sighed as she turned and settled, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder so it spilled down her chest and towards her waist instead. Frankie was struck by a waft of citrus and coconut, a paradisiacal scent making her head spin and her skin tingle. Frankie gripped the underside of her chair seat and internally panicked.

"Hey there, I'm Geralyn." Geralyn introduced herself, oblivious to Frankie's crisis. "It was supposed to be Cherilyn, my mom's a huge Cher fan, but the nurse fucked it up and my parents didn't want to go through getting it fixed, so it's Geralyn. It's kinda dumb, so everyone just calls me Gee or Lyn."

Frankie was surprised by the rushing flow of words coming from Geralyn when Frank was a practical stranger to her. Geralyn, or Gee or Lyn, stared expectantly at her, awaiting for a response while not so discreetly eyeballing each of Frankie's features carefully. The blush blazing in her cheeks was inevitable and she never felt self conscious until she was analyzed by possibly the most gorgeous set of eyes known to man. Faded jade mason jars encapsulating a concoction of smooth honey and fresh lemonade, perhaps a hint of whiskey leaving behind a misty trail. Frankie wondered if it was jealousy she was feeling, that she was so deeply intimidated by Geralyn's attractiveness that she felt threatened somehow.

Frankie cleared her throat and licked her lips before speaking so she wouldn't sound stupid again. "I don't think your name is dumb."

Geralyn beamed. "Thanks. That's a first. My mom tries to tell me she likes it, but that's just because she forced herself to get used to it."

"It's nice." Frankie whispered, and kicked herself for not thinking of anything better to say.

"What's your name?"

Frankie bit her lower lip for a moment. "I'm Frankie. Just . . . just Frankie. It's not short for anything."

Geralyn chuckled and her lips quirked into a half smile. She leaned her cheek on her fist and the loose tendril of hair fell further into her face. "That's a spunky name."

Frankie snorted, unable to help herself. "Who says spunky?"

"I do." Geralyn's smile spread into a full grin revealing oddly endearing small teeth, and to Frankie's surprise, she thought the imagined the glimmer of a tongue ring hiding behind those teeth.

"Well, I am a cheerleader." Frankie nervously tapped her pencil against the desk, earning an annoyed glanced from someone sitting nearby.

"Spunky and peppy." Geralyn lightly shook her head with a hushed laugh to not draw attention. "A perfect blend."

The teacher rose up from his seat and began the lesson, drawing everyone's eyes to the front, including Geralyn's. Frankie was determined to stay focused, but her body was strung in a tense structure she knew her shoulders would suffer from the next day. She rolled them back and did everything within her power to not let her eyes flicker back to Geralyn, as much as they were tempted to observe her, curious to know if there were any strange tics or unconscious habits like nail biting or lip chewing. Frankie kept in mind that the only reason there was advanced interest in this girl was because of that strange competitive trait some girls had when they were near another woman they considered more attractive than themselves. Frankie felt it before, it couldn't be so far out of the picture that she was incapable of even considering it.

Geralyn spoke to her again, that time even quieter than before so she wouldn't be scolded by the teacher. She leaned on her side towards Frankie slightly and her lips turned crookedly into an odd smile with a certain charm that just suited her.

"You look kinda young to be in a senior elective class." Geralyn noted.

Frankie instantly defended herself. "I know I look thirteen, but I'm eighteen." Frankie blamed it on her petite build that often made her appear prepubescent. Her hands and feet were tiny, and she stood at a low 5'1 she was often teased for in inconvenient scenarios such as straining on the tips of her toes for a cereal box resting at the top of the fridge. The only time she prided in her small structure was being dependable as a flyer on the cheerleading squad, always one to be easily lifted and guided into the air.

"I'm eighteen, too." Geralyn didn't make note of Frankie's defensive statement. "I love that shirt by the way."

Frankie immediately glanced down at her Rocky Horror shirt she cropped and tore up herself, tying it at her side with a rubber band so it wasn't so baggy around her chest. She was forced to wear a cami underneath since the school's dress code forbade girls showing any extra skin for idiotic reasons, but it was one of her favorites.

"You like Rocky Horror?" Frankie asked with a spark of excitement.

"I fuckin' love it. I've gone to see it like four times." Geralyn moved her leather jacket aside to show off a pin of the iconic pair of lips symbolizing the film.

"Oh my god," Frankie kicked her feet excitedly, "I've always wanted to go see it."

"Why haven't you?" Geralyn let her jacket fall back into place and she seemed amused by Frankie's enthusiasm.

"My friends never wanna go with me. They say it's a little too weird for them." Frankie bought a ticket for herself on her sixteenth birthday, but ended up selling it, knowing she wouldn't be nearly as entertained compared to if she went with company.

"The weird is the best thing about it." Geralyn smirked and sat back in her seat, crossing her legs. "I get it though. You either hate it or love it."

Frankie's eyes darted to Geralyn's chest instinctively when the sides of the jacket slid away from the front. Her cheeks flushed intensely at the flash of cleavage from breasts that were definitely larger than her own. Frankie snapped her head towards the front of the room and pretended she hadn't noticed or made any conscious observation. She threw her concentration to her lesson instead because she refused to fall behind all because of an interesting new student who shared love for an interest Frankie couldn't bond with anyone over. She was stunned to find she hadn't even noticed everyone took out their textbooks until she realized she was completely lost. Frankie scrambled for the book in her back and hastily flipped it open to the page number written on the board.

While Geralyn was doing the same, Frankie glanced over her bag, the array of pins decorating the front, and one caught her eye. It looked vaguely familiar, but Frankie couldn't put her finger on the reason why. There were orange and pink stripes going across it with a solid white stripe in the center, a very specific arrangement. It was frustrating Frankie that she couldn't put a name on the meaning behind the stripes and their colors.

"What's that?" Frankie found herself blurting out to Geralyn, going so far as to lightly tap the button with the tip of her finger. She immediately drew her hand back with large eyes and crossed her arms on her desk so she wouldn't be tempted to touch anything else.

Geralyn was taken by surprise. For the first time, her cheeks flushed with blood, spreading through her entire face at first. Her eyebrows shot up and she let out a little shocked laugh, taking a moment to compose herself. She looked at the pin and traced the circle with her finger.

"Oh, you don't know what that is." Geralyn said it as a statement of a fact rather than a question. "That's the uh, that's the lesbian flag."

Recognition struck Frankie over the head. She nearly gasped when it crashed into her. Memories of researching different sexualities when she was younger flooded back in and she was able to identify where she'd first seen the flag. It was online with a variety of many others, but Frankie never dove too deep into her research. Her mother advised her not to continue on the path of her inevitable curiosity, saying she was too young at the time to be searching up anything online, god knows what she could stumble across, so Frankie was instilled with guilt and . . . never went back to it. She remembered one of her closest friends getting into serious trouble a few years back after letting curiosity get the best of her and researching deeply enough until she struck a mine of gay porn. Frankie was terrified of ever getting caught doing the same, not that she could when her parents were protective and often monitored her online history when she was younger.

Frankie automatically assumed at first that Geralyn must've felt some personal way about lesbians if she carried a pin with her. "Are you an ally?"

Geralyn giggled. She settled her back against her seat and turned her body towards the front without looking away from Frankie, mystified by her. Frankie shrunk down a size, feeling she missed out on something crucial.

"Of course," Geralyn said, and without hesitation, she added, "But I have a pin because I myself am a lesbian."

And that was the exact moment when the first strike of lightening incinerated Frankie's serene state of mind.

Frankie wasn't homophobic; she never understood how anyone's love could determine whether they were acceptable in society or not. Discrimination made her stomach uneasy and she always shut down homophobic comments if she was near enough to catch onto them, no matter the size or age of a person. That was never the issue — Frankie wasn't the most passionate ally with all of the information and history memorized, but she cared, and never turned anyone away for their sexual orientation.

That was the biggest reason leaving Frankie to constantly despair over why she was so desperate to keep herself away from Geralyn, but there was no possible way to do it. Something about her presence made Frankie's hands tremble and sweat at the palms, maybe a little bit under her pits as well, which was gross, but she was horrendously nervous around Geralyn. Panicky, almost, and she chose her words with so much caution that Frankie must have sounded robotic. It wasn't enough to put any distance; Geralyn's interest kept coming. Every day during their shared class, she would plop herself right beside Frankie in her strange alternative outfits and flaming red hair always pinned up or let loose in different styles, spreading her paradisiacal scent and flashing her diamond tongue ring that always sent a jolt of something blistering through Frankie's veins. She rambled about her exquisite music taste lining up perfectly with Frankie's, hum under her breath with a pure rock and roll voice, and enthuse over horror flicks and torture porn movies Frankie's parents always disapproved of, thinking those movies would desensitize her to empathy and world problems, but Frankie knew she would always be a sensitive crybaby no matter what.

At first, Frankie was convinced she ached because Geralyn was exactly what she wanted to be. Talented, gorgeous, free to get lacerations at punk shows and dress up to see Rocky Horror live whenever it rolled back into town. None of it was forced; Frankie strived so hard to be pristine. She had multiple breakdowns over keeping her perfect grades, she went in and out of phases of skipping meals to sustain her flat stomach, and she spent her money on cosmetics to cover the imperfections in her skin, larger pores and occasional acne scars dotted across her cheeks. Geralyn didn't need to wear makeup, yet she dabbled in the art solely because she enjoyed it, not because she felt she had something to hide. She wasn't as thin or petite as Frankie, there was a tummy bump present and her tight jeans dug into her soft hips, but it was the way she didn't care at all about the small rolls and her full cheeks that had Frankie envious. Geralyn was the perfect image of everything Frankie wished she could be, and Frankie was always the first to notice everything about her because she constantly searched for flaws, little hiccups, but even those went well with her.

A flurry of days later, when Frankie finished up cheerleading practice in full uniform, she halted in her tracks on her way to the locker rooms located in the gym beside the building where most music and art classes took place. She caught a blinding flash of fiery hair disappearing through the hallway past the double doors that were propped open for the music kids to practice after school hours. Frankie furrowed her eyebrows and double checked, finding the doorway was absent of a head of cherry red hair, but the sound of mingling laughter echoed across the courtyard, along with the guttural random plucks of a bass plugged into an amp. Thinking her mind was playing tricks on her, Frankie shook her head and slowly stepped forward, already having fallen far behind from the rest of the squad eager to rinse and change back into their regular day clothes.

Frankie's journey was interrupted yet again, that time by her own intrigued awe to hear an impeccably performed bassline floating down the stairs leading up to the elevated music room. The sound wasn't jazzy in the ways Frankie was familiar with whenever she passed the music room, it was something derived from a gritty anthem she would definitely thrash around to on her own time. Frankie clutched tightly onto her blue pompoms and stared with wide eyes at the open doors that appeared awfully welcoming suddenly. She tugged her lower lip between her teeth and turned back to her cheer squad that made their way inside the gym normally, meaning her absence went unnoticed. Frankie's curiosity got the better of her once she realized she wasn't being searched for, and she glanced around the vacant campus.

Clutching her pompoms in one hand and breaking out into a jog, Frankie made her way up the concrete steps and slowed so her footsteps were muted against the pavement. Her heart accelerated to be sneaking around in a building she wasn't permitted access to, but she managed to sneak past the door and into the hallway, her eyes sweeping along the hallway until she found the source of the noise. Tiptoeing, Frankie pressed herself against the wall beside the propped open door of the room where the talented bassist continued their rhythm. Frankie picked up on a few approving hums and a conversation going on in the background, leading her to guess maybe several people were inside.

When the bassline began flowing insanely well between high and low notes, Frankie found herself letting out a hushed gust of air, curling a hand around her mouth to conceal the impressed laugh leaving it. Frankie needed to know who was kicking ass at their instrument, she had to befriend them instantly and possibly invite them to her jamming sessions with her guitar at home. She slowly leaned around the corner to peek around it, peering inside the room silently.

Shock sprinkled through her quickly to find the person holding the bass in their hands was Mikey Way. Ray Toro was sitting across from him beside Adam Lazzara, all known musicians who were wicked in their talents. But, where there was one Way sibling, the other followed.

Geralyn was sitting beside Mikey on the stage platform, her legs crossed and her foot waving along to the rhythm Mikey was strumming out. She abandoned her worn leather jacket and let her hair down loose so it pooled around her in messy tangles of cherry red. Frankie almost retreated at the sight of her, but her feet were firmly planted in their spot, stubborn to move despite her instincts.

Geralyn appeared more human in the way her eye makeup was smeared slightly under her eyes, her hair was unkempt, and her white tank top tucked into her torn black jeans was spilling out in some parts. She swayed to the bass and waggled her eyebrows at Ray, as if she'd proven some point to him, and turned back to Mikey with a beam one would find in a proud guardian.

Frankie considered making her presence known, but in doing that, she'd grab Geralyn's attention as well. Frankie was a little sticky from practice, there were grass burns on her knees, and her hair was sloppy from activity. Not to mention her face was bare of makeup; cosmetics and sweat didn't blend well and always gave her awful breakouts, her only exception was game nights. She was forced to push her insecurities aside and remove it before arriving to practice. Geralyn may have seemed slightly unkempt, but Frankie was on a different level.

"Okay, wait, let me try it." Geralyn excitedly made grabby hands at the instrument settled in Mikey's lap, to Frankie's surprise.

Mikey stopped strumming and chuckled at his sister's enthusiasm. He carefully guided the instrument into Geralyn's hands and she let out a delighted squeal, tugging it into her lap.

"Don't strum hard enough to break the strings again." Mikey amusedly said.

"I can't help that I'm heavy handed." Geralyn stuck out her tongue, showing off a diamond piercing imbedded in it, and plucked the guitar pick from between Mikey's fingers.

Frankie found herself leaning forward in anticipation that was polluted with a touch of skepticism. Some part of her refused to believe Geralyn could possibly surpass her current level of impressiveness residing in Frankie's mind. Frankie watched Geralyn adjust herself to rest the bass in her lap comfortably and she slouched over it, sweeping her long hair away from the fretboard when it tumbled over the strings.

When Geralyn flawlessly mimicked the sound Mikey produced before, Frankie's jaw dropped to the ground, rolled over into a grave, and buried itself six feet under. There were a few hiccups here and there, but that was only due to the Geralyn looking up to grin like the cheshire cat at her friends who looked on, impressed by her talents, but no where near as shocked as Frankie who gawked where she privately stood. She leaned forward unconsciously, her eyes following the way Geralyn's hands smoothly flowed along the frets while her other plucked at the strings with the pick pinched between her fingers. Frankie waited for an inescapable mistake, maybe the strings snapping like they had before in some incident Mikey mentioned, but none of it ever came.

Geralyn finished up the bassline and whooped at her own success, tossing the pick at Ray who catch it between his hands. Everyone laughed and cheered for her, and when it was all winding down, Frankie's pompoms chose the perfect moment to tumble from her hand. It wasn't their fault; she hadn't realized her grip was loosening during her gawking session.

The sound of them landing might as well have been as obvious as boulders crashing through a frame of glass. Everyone confusedly turned their heads and found Frankie squeaking, scrambling where she stood after realizing she'd been caught. Frankie's deer-in-headlights eyes turned up from her pompoms laying limp on the ground and met Geralyn's eyes that went from confused to bright with fond recognition in an instant.

"What are you doing standing there all silent, creeper?" Geralyn jokingly called out, waving at Frankie. She looked at her friends and said, "Don't worry, it's just Frankie. She's my friend."

Frankie stammered as her face flushed with blood. Humiliation tingled at the back of her neck and a nervous laugh floated up in the air. She didn't know Geralyn considered her a friend and felt guilty to not consider her the same after knowing her for a short time frame. She slowly bent down to retrieve her pompoms in her now sweaty hands and she wished she could disappear into thin air in that moment.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be weird, I just," Frankie sucked in a deep breath that was louder than necessary, "I was coming back from cheer practice and I heard someone playing the bass and it — it was really good. I just got curious."

"Did you hear me or Gee?" Mikey asked, a bit apprehensive towards someone he'd never interacted with before.

Frankie tapped her heels together and held her pompoms against her chest. "I heard you. Sorry. I really like live music."

"Don't be sorry." Geralyn waved off Frankie's hesitation. "You don't have to stand there, you can come in."

Frankie's flush deepened at the earnestness in Geralyn's face that made her suddenly feel the desire to stay like she insisted. She looked towards the clock and chewed her lip. "I don't know, one of my friends is supposed to give me a ride home."

Geralyn looked between everyone with pursed lips and shrugged loosely. "You can stay for just a little bit then. I'm sure she's not gonna come around in two seconds."

Frankie's heart murmured. She rattled her pompoms in consideration, but when she looked back at Geralyn practically pleading her to stay with her eyes, she found her feet moving slowly. Geralyn's lips stretched into an incandescent grin and she pretended to cheer with pompoms of her own in the air. Frankie's smile was wobbly as hesitation lingered, having to do with the rest of the kids in the room, but she wasn't a complete stranger to all of them. Ray Toro was generally kind to everyone and there were a few occasions where Frankie was paired with him in class group projects. The both of them were always stuck with the burden of the work with the others socialized and ignored their assignment.

"You look awfully perky in that little uniform." Geralyn stood up and reached out for Frankie, taking her arm and leading her to the stage.

Frankie made a strange noise and looked down at her short ruffled skirt and scraped knees. "I asked if we could wear shorts this year instead. The school board said skirts have more spirit."

"Mighty field burns you've got." Adam winced at the lacerations visible on Frankie's legs from when she'd tumbled and landed harshly on the ground.

"Yikes, let me help you with that." Geralyn hopped over to where her bag was strewn beside the stage and dug out a miniature first aid kit.

"How do you always have so many things in your bag?" Ray was mystified by the kit Geralyn carried over to Frankie.

"I told you, she's Mary Poppins." Mikey dodged the swat Geralyn aimed at his shoulder and grinned.

"I wouldn't be able to come to Frankie's rescue if I didn't have anything in my bag." Geralyn retrieved two bandages from the kit and balanced them on Frankie's leg. "There ya go. Those should keep you from bleeding out."

"I don't think you can bleed out through scrapes on your knees." Frankie gratefully tore open the packaging with a faint blush.

"Do we have a football game coming up soon?" Ray inquired, and Frankie was surprised to be addressed so causally when she still felt as though she was intruding.

"Um, yeah. Homecoming is around the corner. You haven't been seeing all the horribly glittery posters being hung up all over the place?"

"Shit. I haven't been paying attention." Ray got up to his feet and went towards the line of guitars grouped with other string instruments. "I've been thinking about Battle of the Bands."

"Battle of the Bands?" Frankie quirked her head to the side.

"It's not gonna be hosted here, it's gonna be down at Gritty's Lounge." Adam piped in. "Our band is gonna compete."

"You're in a band?" Frankie's brows rose further, perhaps settling in her hairline.

"And they're fucking awesome." Geralyn dropped down beside Frankie on the stage, uncomfortably near for two people who didn't know each other well, but Frankie couldn't deny the scent of her tropical perfume was as pleasant of a smell to inhale as ever after sniffling from the sharpness of freshly cut grass out on the field.

"Are you in their band?" Frankie's eyes flitted between the abandoned bass and Geralyn.

Geralyn snorted and shook her head. "I can carry a bassline and a tune, but I'm in no shape to be in a band. I'd fuckin' vomit all over the audience before they got a single note out of me."

"She's not kidding. One time in eighth grade—" Mikey began, only to be assaulted by Geralyn's fist colliding with his arm in a bruising blow.

"Shut the fuck up!" Geralyn hollered. "I told you not to speak of that again or I'd scatter all your comics out in the ocean."

"You punch like a guy, christ." Mikey breathed with comically wide eyes as he rubbed the tender spot on his arm.

"I'm curious, but I'm guessing I shouldn't ask." Frankie smoothed over the ends of the bandages concealing her scrapes, retaining a soft giggle building in her chest.

"Hey, Frankie, you said you like live music?" Ray swiftly changed the subject before Geralyn could beat on Mikey more for bringing up a forbidden memory.

Frankie's head perked up at her name being called. "Yeah, I do."

"You should come see us at Battle of the Bands. It's me, Adam, Mikey, and Tucker. Tucker couldn't make it for practice today, but he's our drummer." Ray rummaged through his backpack until he retrieved a flyer he passed down to Frankie.

Frankie gingerly plucked the page from Ray's hand and analyzed the text. There were six bands competing against each other; Butchered Dollies, The Antichrist Project, October Dies, Batty and the Limbs, Glass Souls, and Zombie Swan. Frankie snorted at the latter band name that didn't have as special of a ring as the ones lined up before it.

"Zombie Swan? What type of name is that?" Frankie couldn't resist the laughter it elicited from her. However, when her laugher passed into a mere smile, she lifted her head to find everyone awkwardly staring in every possible direction aside from hers.

It slowly dawned at her that the name she poked fun at was the name of the band sitting right before her.

"Oh shit!" Frankie clapped a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry! I didn't realize that was you guys."

"Nah, it's fine, I know it's kinda dumb." Mikey collected the bass back into his lap after unplugging it to strum it acoustically. "We couldn't think of anything good in time. The deadline to sign up was like, the same day we finally decided on a name." Ray agreed with his statement.

"No no, it's not dumb," Frankie sought to correct Mikey despite her initial reaction. "It's actually kinda cool. Zombie swans. Swans are actually pretty aggressive, did you know that?"

"Only if you get too close to their nests." Adam pointed out.

Frankie's face glowed from the redness of her blush, suddenly feeling she overstayed her welcome even if no one held anything against her.

"I'm sorry." Frankie apologized once more to make it known she didn't mean to soil their confidence.

"You're a cheerleader! Where's the cheer?" Geralyn lightly knocked their shoulders together and shook her head. "Don't feel so bad, I always bag on them for their weird band name."

"You suggested Pussy Knuckles, you don't have much room to speak." Adam grinned.

"It was a joke and you know it." Geralyn returned the grin with a mischievous touch of her own. She crossed her legs and tossed her hair over one shoulder, waggling her brows at Frankie. "So do you wanna come? I'll be there pole dancing in the background."

"No she won't." Mikey coughed.

"You're pissing on my dreams, Michael." Geralyn said through her teeth, still grinning at Frankie while waiting for her answer.

Frankie adjusted her skirt and looked around at all the pairs of eyes expectantly watching her. "Well . . . when is it?"

"It's exactly a week before homecoming." Ray smiled encouragingly, thankfully unaffected by Frankie momentarily shit-talking the name of their group.

Frankie had tons of cheerleading practice to attend to reach perfection in their routine so close to the homecoming game, but Frankie was already one of the most talented members of the squad; she could sacrifice one practice session.

"Okay, I'll come." Frankie smoothed out the flyer on her lap when an idea struck her. "My cousin works printing custom made shirts. Do you guys want me to make you some?"

Everyone brightened at the proposal. "You'd seriously do that?" Ray asked.

"Sure," Frankie beamed at the positive undivided attention, soaking it in and sitting taller. "Do you guys have a logo or something?"

"I'm currently designing one." Geralyn wagged her fingers. "I've got a hand for drawing."

"You should give her the design when you're finished." Mikey tapped Geralyn's foot with his own.

"You've got yourself a deal, peppy." Geralyn ruffled her hair into her face and pretended to arrange it around her jawline as she winked ostentatiously at Frankie. Frankie's cheeks warmed, but before she could process the meaning behind Geralyn's wink, one of her squad members stalked into the room, looking rather frazzled.

"Oh my god, Frankie." Kayleigh breathed out in deep relief, her wide eyes catching sight of her sitting on the stage. "I've been looking all over campus for you. What are you doing here?"

Frankie jolted at the sight of her friend and sprang to her feet. She completely forgot to message Kayleigh about opting to stay on campus longer instead of catching a ride home with her right after hitting the showers.

"Fuck, I forgot to text you." Frankie raked a hand through her hair and timidly smiled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you."

"Is this the friend who was gonna give you a ride home?" Geralyn's eyes darted between Kayleigh and Frankie.

"Yeah." Frankie scooped up her bag from the ground uncertainly. "I think — I should probably go now."

"You just got here." Geralyn stood up, a crease between her brows, as though she truly didn't want Frankie to leave her behind. It caused Frankie's gut to tighten.

"I know, but I'll catch you in class tomorrow, alright?" Frankie decided she didn't want to blow off Kayleigh so rudely and be late for dinner at home.

Despite the visible disappointment in Geralyn's face, she respected her decision and she stepped back, nodding slightly with her hands clasped behind her back. Frankie thanked everyone for allowing her to join them and they all bid her a goodbye and a warm welcome back if she ever wanted to return for one of their band practices. Frankie retreated with Kayleigh, looking back over her shoulder to find Geralyn staring at her back with her lip tucked between her teeth, definitely examining the length of her skirt swaying against the backs of her thighs as she walked. Frankie's heart kicked against her ribcage and she sped up her pace, feeling as though fire had lit up beneath her and she hobbled across a path of flames, only the lighter dangled from Geralyn's fingers.

Frankie couldn't shake the image of Geralyn's wandering gaze that felt as though it melted into her flesh and seared her skin with what she'd never experienced before, unidentifiable as it crawled through her body. All Frankie knew was that her dreams were stained in crimson from wild long hair and cheeky winks that confused her terribly, beauty that made her stomach ache because Geralyn was everything Frankie wished she could be.

The next day, while sitting outside at lunch with her friends, Frankie was stabbing at her southwest salad sprinkled with more vegan chicken than actual

lettuce. She was staring past Jamia and at Geralyn who was sitting at the bench under the oak tree by the cafeteria, dressed in black combat boots and a simple bubblegum pink dress over a long sleeve shirt. Her hair was curled and held half up, tendrils of hair hanging in the front that fluttered in the breeze. She was sitting on the table instead of the bench and she was bobbing her head to the rhythm of a song she listened to through a single earbud. She shared the other with Mikey who was sitting beside Ray. Frankie experienced that feeling rampaging through her again— tight in her chest, causing her to lose her appetite, and her palms were clammy again.

"Jesus, who are you glaring at like that?" Jamia waved her hand in front of Frankie's face to call her attention.

Frankie was peeved by the hand waving in front of her face and she scoffed aloud. She moved her head away from the gesture and scowled.

"Grouchy. Calm down." Alicia elbowed Frankie in the side.

"Don't provoke me." Frankie glared and resumed stabbing her salad maliciously.

"I think you killed your food already like ten minutes ago." Jamia reached over and grabbed Frankie's wrist gently to stop her. Frankie made a stubborn noise, but when she met Jamia's eyes, some of her anger ebbed away. Frankie dropped her fork and drew her hand away to tuck it under her leg.

"You wanna tell us what's wrong?" Alicia softly asked to coax it out of Frankie. Frankie knew that tone, it always calmed her down and made her spill her guts every time.

Frankie was so frustrated that she didn't know how to word it without sounding like an awful person. Her eyes were drawn back to Geralyn. She was laughing at something her brother said, her curls spilling over her shoulder when she reached down for her water bottle resting in the side pocket of her bag. When she looked up, her eyes met Frankie's across the way. Geralyn froze for a moment when she realized she was being watched, and Frankie was about to tear her eyes away, but Geralyn quickly loosened up and waved at her with a beam. That made the wall of frustration Frankie built up crumbled so quickly that it was dizzying. Her lips curled up the tiniest bit in response, enough for Geralyn to see it. Geralyn stuck her tongue out and made a funny face, the sunlight catching across her piercing, and Frankie's stomach rose up and down all over again. She tightly gripped the bench and looked down as she recalled the heaviness of Geralyn's gaze on her body when she didn't think Frankie would catch her in the act.

Jamia had already caught onto their interaction. She looked over her shoulder at Geralyn who by then resumed her conversation. Jamia spun back around confusedly.

"Did Geralyn piss you off?" Jamia asked, her brows scrunched up.

"No. Yes." Frankie squirmed. "Something like that. I don't know."

"That's not very helpful." Alicia leaned her head on her hand and chuckled.

"She didn't like . . . directly piss me off. We didn't fight." Frankie cleared up the only portion she could.

"I didn't even know you two were friends." Jamia crossed her arms and leaned them forward on the table with interest. Alicia mirrored her.

"We don't hang out really." Frankie blazed cherry red under their questioning eyes. "We have a class together. She sits next to me."

"Which class?"

"Art appreciation."

"Figures. Emma was telling me she's seen her drawing in class and she's really good." Alicia glanced over at Geralyn curiously. "She says she's kind of weird though."

"She's not weird." Frankie flung out so quickly and roughly that it stunned both of her friends. She realized her own tone and softened it. "Sorry. She's not weird. She's a lot like me."

"Why haven't you asked her to hang out with us?" Jamia sounded like she struggled to suppressed her habit to be nosy, sticking to basic questions instead to pry out some precious information.

Frankie stammered. She was flustered collecting her words, figuring out how to word things without sounding awful to her friends or voicing a concern that was better left private. Frankie felt anxiousness claw at her chest.

"I don't — I don't know." Frankie stared down at her lap. "I think she's cool, I just. I guess I feel a little . . . jealous?"

Alicia gawked as if Frankie lost her head. "Jealous? Frankie, you're like, the last person to get jealous of another girl."

"Well, I do, I just hide it well. I don't wanna seem like a bitch." Frankie sighed heavily and slapped her hands down on her thighs. "I don't know. Maybe it's 'cause I've always been the rock and roll girl around here. Now there's another one."

"That's more of a reason to be friends with her." Jamia encouraged. "Getting jealous is normal, but it can fuck you up a little if you let it get to you."

"Tell me about it." Frankie pushed her salad aside when she decided she had no intention to finish it and dropped her head down on the bench. She groaned petulantly and heard the exasperated sighs from her poor friends who always put up with her episodes.

"God, if there was a pageant for Miss Drama Queen, you'd win that crown every time." Alicia ran a hand over Frank's choppy black hair soothingly. "Frankie. These benches are so not sanitary enough for you to be putting your face on them like that."

Frankie lifted her head, still hunched over. She found herself staring at Geralyn again, who was reapplying her nude colored gloss in her compact mirror, and misery struck Frankie. She looked away.

"You don't need to feel threatened. You're gorgeous." Jamia emphasized on the last word to make her point. "You get all the guys anyway."

"I'm not worried she's gonna take all the guys." Frankie was surprised to find that thought hadn't crossed her mind at all. In fact, Frankie was so consumed with the weight on her chest that she hadn't been flirting with anyone recently, her thoughts weren't pointing in that direction.

"Look, I can easily end this right now." Alicia stood up and stepped around the bench.

"What are you doing?" Frankie shot upright.

"I'm going over there right now and asking her if she wants to sit with us." Alicia started to take off while she spoke, but white hot panic darted through Frankie's body and seized control of it.

"No!" Frankie shouted in a high voice. She sprung up and hopped onto Alicia's back, making her squeal and stumble from the unexpected weight, struggling to stay balanced on her feet with Frankie wrapped tightly around her to prevent her from moving any further.

"What the fuck?" Alicia grabbed Frankie's legs and stumbled backwards, but Jamia caught her before she could topple over, looking just as bewildered if not more. People were glancing over in concern to see what the commotion was about, but Alicia waved them all off to let them know a real fight wasn't breaking out.

"You are not going over there, I forbid it." Frankie tightly wrapped her limbs around Alicia to lock her in place.

"Jesus fucking christ, Frankie, you don't have to incarcerate me." Alicia wheezed.

"Promise me you're not going over there."

"I'm not, I'm not! Get off me."

Frankie stayed in place for a few second to make sure Alicia would stay true to her promise, and when she was certain she could trust her, she slowly climbed off her back, hopping back onto her feet. Alicia stared at her with huge eyes like Frankie had officially gone insane, Jamia mirroring her look. They stood in front of her and Frankie shrunk down as the shame dawned on her, wrapping her arms around herself as a protective shield from the eyes demanding an explanation for her actions.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I just panicked." Frankie cried.

"Since when are you afraid of talking to someone?" Jamia was befuddled.

"I just —" Frankie couldn't hold it in anymore when her heart was beating so rapidly and she could feel Geralyn watching her, probably under the impression that Frankie was a little insane, and she hated it. "I'm envious and it's making me really insecure lately, I get really nervous around her and I just — I don't know if it's because of that or because she's really bold and tends to overshare, like she told me she's a lesbian the day I met her and —"

"Geralyn's a lesbian?" Alicia caught onto one fact Frankie hadn't realized was spilling out.

Frankie paled. She looked between the startled faces of her friends as it dawned on her how much she spewed out without thinking. Frankie rubbed her hands over her arms until it burned and stumbled messily over her words jumbling together.

"I . . . fuck, well yeah, she — she has a pride pin on her bag and it's the lesbian one, I'm assuming that means she's out, right?" Frankie's throat was suddenly tight and dried up when she attempted to suck down a fretting gulp.

"Well . . . yeah?" Jamia said slowly, her eyes still round. "If someone has a pride pin, it probably means she wants people to know. You don't have to freak out."

"Fuck. Okay. I'm sorry for that, I just don't know why I feel like this." Frankie struggled to catch up with her breathing.

"Hey. Frankie. It's okay." Alicia softened up immediately at the first sign of Frankie shedding her defenses. "We're your friends, it's fine. Come here."

Alicia tugged Frankie into a hug. Frankie couldn't resist the comfort and confided in it, squeezing her eyes shut and allowing herself to be enveloped. Jamia joined in and they all squeezed each other tight in silence as Frankie trembled and struggled to come down from the great heights she escalated to trying to figure herself out while also explaining her issue to her friends. Her heart warmed to be nurtured by her friends who always came to her aid when she was in need of comfort and she found herself squeezing them tighter as gratitude swelled up in her chest. She focused on that alone and gradually slowed her breathing to a normal pace.

When the next school day arrived, Frankie was exhausted from the draining previous day. She wore a huge hoodie that practically drowned her in fabric and a pair of skinny jeans she already wore on Monday, hoping no one would notice the repetition. She didn't have the energy to do her makeup, only wearing a thin layer of mascara and concealer. She skipped over filling her eyebrows, patting on foundation, and doing her eyeliner. Her friends were worried about her, but Frankie insisted she was only exhausted from a restless night and staying up extra late to study for an upcoming math test. Frankie avoided the routes she knew Geralyn took to her classes, but she couldn't ignore her for long when they shared a class together.

When Geralyn arrived to Art Appreciation, she wasn't as animated as she normally was. Still, she was stunning in a black dress with a pleated skirt embellished in prints of butterflies and chain necklaces hanging around her neck. Her hair was straightened and free, a butterfly barrette keeping her hair out of her face, and her lips were painted just as vivid of a shade of red. She plopped down onto her chair and set her bag down, taking out her needed materials without saying a word. Something was out of place about her attitude and how she didn't acknowledge Frankie.

Frankie was wounded at first to be obviously ignored, but she settled for it. She avoided Geralyn all day, what if she'd noticed and gave Frankie a taste of her own medicine? It was fair, even if it stung, and Frankie was astounded by it when they didn't hang out at all outside of school apart from one time, not even close enough to text. It didn't make sense to take Geralyn's silence personal. There was also a chance she too wasn't having the most pleasant of days, causing her to sink into herself. 

Instead of dwelling over it, Frankie paid her undivided attention to the teacher and their daily lesson. Despite the urge to glance at Geralyn from the corner of her eye, she refused to give in. As she scribbled notes during a powerpoint presentation when the lights in the classroom were dimmed, she heard Geralyn whispering beside her.

"So. Word got out that I'm a lesbian." Geralyn's words made an unpleasant feeling hotly spike through Frankie. She nearly dropped her pencil as she began to process.

Frankie held her breath and slowly turned to meet Geralyn's eyes gleaming in the low lighting. She was too calm, no anger present in her face, except for the faintest frown at her lips. It was only noticeable because she consistently held at least a hint of a smile on her face at all times.

"What?" Frankie whispered back slightly breathlessly.

Geralyn looked down at her paper instead of keeping her eyes on Frankie. "A group of girls in the locker room approached me and told me they know. They tried to show their support, but it sounded more like babying to me."

Frankie's hands twitched nervously. For a moment, she didn't respond, but when she went to form words, Geralyn was already leaning towards her.

"I don't care if anyone knows my sexuality, but you really need to be careful with what you share with other people. You could out someone and seriously hurt them." Geralyn's eyes were piercing to get the point into Frankie's head so she wouldn't forget. But how could Frankie ever forget the trace of betrayal in Geralyn's eyes? It was one thing for everyone to figure out her sexuality for themselves, but it was a whole other world for it to be known when someone she found trustworthy enough to tell spilled the information out without knowing if she was out yet. Frankie should've known assuming wasn't enough.

For the rest of the period, Frankie sat in silence, brewing in growing guilt gnawing away at her already fragile state of mind. Geralyn's returning silence burrowed into Frankie's consciousness and she became aware of every small movement she made, every sigh, every time her head turned to stare out the window, hoping Geralyn would look her way and clear the air. Frankie started to wondered if breaking Geralyn's trust drove her away. Frankie knew she tended to blurt things out under her mind's pressure, but it wasn't her intention to make Geralyn feel as though she couldn't be trusted. She couldn't blame her if Geralyn chose to avoid Frankie for the rest of the school year — Frankie would've done the same to herself. Without context, it seemed that Frankie shared a personal detail about Geralyn for the sake of gossip. Frankie wasn't innocent when it came to gossip, but she couldn't imagine doing it to cause anyone harm, she only listened in on rumors that already floated in the air and made comments from time to time.

By the end of the class, Frankie was ready to sprint out the door and hide herself away in the bathroom stall instead of showing up to history class. She messily piled up her things and shoved them into her bag before bolting out the door, making a beeline for the girl's room. She bustled in past the girls fixing their hair and makeup in the mirror, hiding herself away in one of the free compacted stalls. She curled herself up in a ball over the toilet lid and waited until every girl gradually exited to let her tears fall. They stung in her eyes from holding them in for so long, but the relief of them falling was palpable. The pinched feeling in her chest broadened and she never felt so disappointed in herself before, in the way she envied an innocent girl to madness and for being stupid enough to blurt out private information. She couldn't fully put the blame on Jamia and Alicia, they also assumed Geralyn was out to the world, and they wouldn't have known if Frankie didn't tell them.

Frankie gripped the sides of her hair and raked her fingers through it, letting out a pathetic little sob. God, she was a wreck, and her reasons weren't deep enough to make her constantly feel like she was losing her mind. Frankie supposed it was all the stress she wasn't used to piling up and spilling over the limit of what she could tolerate. She needed to pull herself together quick before people noticed and started talking. She could only imagine what they'd whisper about her in the hallways and that was the consequence of creating such a specific and known reputation for herself through the years. Frankie had unrealistic expectations for herself that lead to others doing the same.

The door to the restroom opened and resounding footsteps made Frank freeze up. She forced her chest to lock up so another sob wouldn't break through. Frankie listened to the footsteps and saw them moving in front of the stalls that were all empty aside from Frankie's. Cherry red Mary Jane heels clacking against the tile floor, instantly recognizable. Frankie's heart leapt into her throat.

"Frankie?" Geralyn called out. She halted in front of the stall Frankie was curled up in. She knocked gently. "I know you're in there. I saw you come in and you never came out."

Frankie hugged her knees tighter and considered not responding, or lowering her voice and saying she was someone else. She dismissed that last thought because it was the most idiotic thing she'd ever heard of. Frankie wiped under her eyes with her sleeve, wincing when she remembered she was wearing makeup.

"Did you follow me?" Frankie's raspy voice rang out over the stall for Geralyn to hear.

"I was waiting for you outside." Geralyn stepped closer so her voice was so nearby that Frankie had to shut her eyes tight. "Like I said, you never came out."

Frankie sniffled and scrubbed at her cheek to rid of the tears she couldn't stop from flowing. "Why?"

Geralyn sighed quietly. She backed away from the stall, the sound of her heels echoing around all of the walls. "I'll tell you if you come out of there."

Frankie didn't want Geralyn to see her in her current state. There must've been mascara smears under her puffy eyes and blotches of red in her face that always appeared when she was stressed or overwhelmed. Her hair wasn't neat, it tended to get that way if she didn't take her time to brush through it between classes, which she hadn't. She combed her fingers through it, patting down the bleached blonde streak on one side.

"I don't look so great." Frankie mumbled.

"No one looks great when they're crying, Frankie."

Frankie's head snapped up. "How do you know I'm crying?"

"You were about to explode in class and I can hear you sniffling."

Frankie's cheeks flooded in chagrin. She slowly uncurled her legs until her feet touched the floor and she helped herself up by keeping a hand pressed against the wall. She considered backing down, telling Geralyn to head to her next class and not waste her time, but Frankie found herself turning the lock and swinging the stall door open.

Geralyn stood there in perfect condition while Frankie was in shambles. Geralyn was tapping her foot lightly, but it halted when she saw the stage of Frankie, and her entire face softened into an expression Frankie hadn't seen on her. Frankie's chest tightened painfully and the swell of a sob hysterically rose up in her throat. Frankie shook with it and struggled to keep herself from releasing it. She wiped at her tears with her sleeve she pulled down over her hand. She felt it coming up, but instead of the dreadfully anticipated sob, words gushed out instead.

"I didn't mean to tell anyone, Gee." Frankie's tremulously said. "It just came out and I didn't think my friends would tell. I don't — I swear I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, I just wasn't thinking, I can be really stupid sometimes —"

"Frankie, stop it." Geralyn pulled open her back and rummaged inside. She retrieved a small package of tissues wrapped in plastic. She tore it open and stepped in close enough for Frankie to look up at her and see the regret shining in her eyes. Frankie blubbered uselessly, so Geralyn took it upon herself to dab gently at her tears. It only made more rush out as Frankie's sore heart pounded.

"I'm sorry." Frankie whispered.

"I know. I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to be harsh. It's just, as someone who's been outed before, it's a sensitive thing for me. But I know you didn't do it to hurt me." Geralyn sighed softly and continued to wipe away Frankie's tears.

Frankie pried the tissue from Geralyn's hand and cleaned up her own mess. "I don't know why I didn't think. I don't want you to relive something like that."

"The difference between those girls and you, is that they were nasty bitches." Geralyn took a step closer, wrapping gentle fingers around Frankie's wrist to catch her attention. Frankie looked up in her eyes and swallowed hard. "You're nothing like them. That's why I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?" Frankie blubbering came to a sudden halt.

Geralyn's benevolent smile answered Frankie before her voice did. "You'd know if I was mad. Like, it's not a pretty picture. You don't wanna see me like that."

Frankie stared in disbelief. She knew her own intentions, or rather lack of intentions, kudos to being an idiot, but Frankie was still stunned Geralyn so easily forgave her. She witnessed Frankie's guilt and tracked her down to reassure her. Something about Geralyn going out of her way to do so eased the pressure in Frankie's chest. It took away the violent urge to sob until her copious amount of tears filled the restroom, sucking the oxygen from her lungs.

"You can still trust me." Frankie swallowed hard and dabbed the corner of her eye. "I swear I'm not a snake, I just. I was really overwhelmed that day."

"I know. I saw you jump that girl at lunch."

Frankie knew Geralyn saw it, but she didn't think it would be mentioned. Her face was engulfed in a surge of blood and Geralyn giggled at the near blistering blush flushing her cheeks.

"That was Alicia. She's one of my best friends." Frankie tossed away the tissue in the trash when her tears finally came to a stop. "I swear I wasn't jumping her."

"What were you even doing?" Geralyn tilted her head to the side a bit, entertained by what she'd seen.

Frankie turned to examine herself in the mirror instead of facing Geralyn who would likely notice the way she froze over, unknowing of how to explain herself. Frankie winced at the blotchiness of her complexion and the smears of mascara advising her to switch to a different waterproof brand since the one she used clearly only used the word for profit. Frankie scoured for a reasonable explanation as she ran her fingers through her layered hair.

"She was just . . . gonna go tell this guy that I kind of have a crush on him." Frankie tossed out the most uninteresting topic she could possibly think of, one that would definitely cause Geralyn to simply not and switch the subject.

The odds were not in Frankie's favor when the exact opposite occurred. The silence pooling in the restroom strung out for long enough, unsettling Frankie. She looked away from her reflection to see Geralyn was standing beside her, flabbergasted by what Frankie shared.

"What?" Frankie shifted uneasily on her feet.

Geralyn blinked a few times and closed her semi-parted lips, rubbing them together. She chuckled to herself and quickly shook her head, her eyes falling to her feet.

"Sorry. It's nothing." Geralyn tugged her lower lip between her teeth and released it when she lifted her head. "Do you need to retouch your makeup? I have my makeup bag with me. I could totally let you borrow something."

Frankie was still curious why Geralyn was silent and hesitant for a moment, but the way she was already reaching into her backpack for the makeup bag she mentioned gave Frankie the impression it was better not to linger on the subject.

"You really don't have to do that. Alicia says it's not wise to share used makeup anyway." Frankie awkwardly rubbed her palms against her hoodie when clamminess gradually returned to them.

"I clean my brushes and stuff pretty often. I may not be the neatest person, but my makeup is my treasure." Geralyn pulled out a black makeup bag with a black and white image of Vampira printed onto the side, surrounded in a film of graveyard fog.

"Fuck, that's so cute." Frankie reached out and grazed her fingers along the matte zipper with a blood droplet jewel dangling off the side.

"Isn't it?" Geralyn turned around the other side to show Vampira's name printed in bold horror themed font. "I got it for ten bucks at a goth convention."

"Are you goth?"

"Not really. I love the music and the style, I just couldn't keep up with it. It's a lot of work to dedicate yourself to one aesthetic." Geralyn chuckled and opened up the bag. "I like bright colors too much. I also tend to buy an excessive amount of pink slutty clothes. Hey, let's move to the big stall in case someone else comes in here."

Frankie was still swallowing her tongue from the comment about the alleged copious amounts of slutty clothing Geralyn purchased when she was being tugged into the larger stall towards the other end of the restroom opposite of the door. Pushing their way inside, Geralyn kicked the door shut with a resounding bang and twisted the lock, causing Frankie's stomach to flip.

"Why did you lock it?" Frankie looked over Geralyn's shoulder at the door.

"In case someone walks in here, it'll look like somebody's just taking a piss or something." Geralyn kicked down the lid of the toilet and gestured for Frankie to take a seat. "Since we're skipping out on class, I might as well give you a touch-up. It looks you cried everything off."

Frankie's scarlet cheeks wouldn't budge, and she realized with a self deprecating chuckle that she matched the color of Geralyn's vividly red hair resting in styled curls down her back. Frankie carefully made her way over to the toilet and plopped down on the seat, tilting her head back in slight surprise to see Geralyn had quite a height advantage. Frankie shakily sighed and allowed her eyes to slip shut as Geralyn gently applied moisturizer to Frankie's skin with a makeup sponge.

"I have a concealer that's a little darker for when I get a tan. You think that'll match?" Geralyn clicked her tongue softly.

"Uh, yeah, I think so. I'm tan right now . . . otherwise, I'm a little pasty." Frankie pressed her lips together.

"You're one to talk," Geralyn laughed aloud, "I'm the queen of pasty. I glow in the sun."

"I . . . I like your skin tone." Frankie managed to yank the words out from her thoughts and spitball them out. She squirmed a bit and kept her eyes shut.

"That's nice of you to say." Geralyn's chuckle was soft as velvet. "Thanks. I like yours. I like the way you tan, it's a nice gold color."

"Thank you." Frankie's heart murmured. She was a sucker for compliments, Frankie loved being showered in them; it boosted her self esteem by miles.

"You're still coming to Battle of the Bands, right?" Geralyn asked with a note of uncertainty in her voice.

Frankie swayed over the topic. "Do you still want me to?"

Geralyn rummaged through her bag once the moisturizer was set and began reapplying concealer under Frankie's eyes, the product cold as she patted it in gently. "Of course. I know my brother's in this band, but I swear I'm not biased, they fucking rule. If they don't win, I promise you it's gonna be because of that weirdass name they chose."

Frankie's giggle came out more high pitched than she anticipated. She brushed it aside and sighed quietly, vulnerability sinking in, and following it was gratitude to find her presence was still welcomed and wanted.

"I'm glad you don't hate me, Geralyn." Frankie whispered.

There was a brief pause in the makeup application. Frankie nearly opened her eyes, her lids twitching, but she was glad she kept them shut when Geralyn gingerly ruffled her hair and said in the softest voice, "Who could hate you, peppy?"


	2. Apple Juice and Peach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When gay panic leads to gay actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo let’s go lesbians!

Two days later, while making her way through campus in search of her friends, Frankie found her wrist being captured and tugged towards the wall behind the library. Her first instinct was to flail and jolt at the first sign of someone yanking her out of sight, but she was immediately alleviated by Geralyn's grinning face saturated by the sunlight shining down into her as though the world was her stage. Frankie released a big sigh and pressed a hand against her thumping heart.

"Jesus, I thought someone was trying to kidnap me." Frankie breathed.

Geralyn tittered. "Nope, I just wanted a minute alone with you so we can talk about something."

For a moment, Frankie's thundering heartbeat slowed to a halt. Her large eyes stayed fixated on Geralyn's face, waiting for something negative to spew, but Geralyn gasped at her own vague claim.

"Shit, it's nothing bad." Geralyn gripped Frankie's shoulder as through to level her despite her frozen stance. "I promise."

Frankie was able to release some of the tension locked in her limbs once she was reassured, pink blossoming in her cheeks at the hands anchoring her in place. She glanced at them wordlessly and Geralyn quickly dropped them.

"I just wanted to invite you to our future band practice sessions." Geralyn stepped back towards the wall and readjusted her bag, lips curved in her odd half-smile endearingly brightening her whiskey and summer eyes. "We could use an actual cheerleader for support. I'm just the fly buzzing in their ear."

"You want me there?" Frankie was grateful enough that her presence was still wanted at Battle of the Bands, but it came as a surprise to her that Geralyn was inviting her to accompany them during their practice sessions as well.

"Everyone thinks you're sort of adorable." Geralyn grinned wickedly, the sunlight tangling in her hair and giving a glossy glow to her tumbling locks. "Ray said something about you knowing how to play guitar too, so you could have a couple jam sessions with us so you're not bored to death."

Frankie tugged the lapels of her patch-decorated denim jacket closer towards her chest as though to hide away from blush gradually engulfing her entire body to be perceived as 'adorable.' She was also strangely touched by Ray recollecting what she shared with him during their group project, her underlying passion for guitar, though she wasn't nearly as good as Ray.

"I'm not that great. You shouldn't expect too much." Frankie's lips curved into a hint of a bashful smile.

"Now is not the time to be modest," Geralyn rocked forward and met Frankie's growing smile with a crooked smirk of her own. "I'd like to see what skills you have up your sleeve. Something tells me you're a musical genius."

"I'm not as skilled as Toro, I mean." Frankie resisted the urge to step back as she noticed Geralyn's nearness paired with her compliment, some part of her admiring how long her curved lashes looked under the trick of dark mascara. "So don't expect any professional shredding. Just moderate to kind of good strumming."

"Sounds perfect to me." Geralyn winked, and before Frankie had the chance to cut off her strangely breathless chuckle at the notion, Geralyn asked, "Also, Ray's throwing a party at his next Friday night. Are you offended by teen drinking?"

Frankie's breathless laugh came out slightly strained as memories flooded back in with force. "I would be the last person to be offended by it."

"Are there some drunk Frankie stories you're keeping to yourself?" Geralyn caught her lip between her teeth through a teasing grin and warmth spread underneath Frankie's skin.

"Yes, including some that aren't seeing the light of day."

"I mean, I'll tell you about my embarrassing eighth grade story in exchange for one drunk Frankie story." Geralyn waggled one finger in the air as a gesture to the number she offered.

"I'll think about it. I am pretty curious about that." Frankie rocked side to side on her feet as she contemplated a tempting party. Frankie enjoyed socializing and swaying to the music with friends, it allowed her to release pent up stress she experienced on a daily basis. Not to mention the glorious amounts of alcohol stored in ice chests she frequented despite knowing the murderous hangover awaiting her come the morning.

"You should come." Geralyn gestured elsewhere with a nod of her head, tilting it to the side. "I think Ray kinda has a thing for you."

Flabbergasted by news Frankie was overly oblivious too, she immediately stammered, redness swelling under her skin and blooming brightly in her cheeks. Geralyn laughed at catching her off guard.

"I could totally tell him there's not a chance if you're not interested."

"No." Frankie quickly caught her lips moving before she was capable of thinking through anything. Her panicked state clouded over her mind, and for some reason while under Geralyn's eyes scanning over her to search for any sign of interest in another, Frankie found herself spitting, "He's actually the guy I said I liked."

Geralyn's eyes rounded to an uncanny size at the surprise. Frankie's breath froze in the midst of passing through her, instant regret flashing hot through her system, far too late to tangle her tongue and prevent her from admitting her true answer which was admitting she felt no romantic or physical attraction towards Ray Toro. She wasn't sure why she blurted out a lie instantly, Frankie was never one compulsively spitball them like it was second nature to her. There was something inside Geralyn's eyes always pinned so securely on her that made a silent emotion remaining unlabeled waver inside Frankie, churning deep in the recesses of her gut, causing her to catapult nonsense into the air. That time, Frankie was truly tangling herself into an inescapable web or else Geralyn would have another reason to distrust Frankie in the cradle of her palms where one already rested.

"Well," Geralyn's airy laughter swirled around Frankie's head, "that works out then. Why didn't you say anything before?"

Frankie couldn't formulate a good concoction of words that sounded convincing enough all of a sudden. She was such an idiot as her reddened cheeks totally must've given her away, unless Geralyn took it as shyness. Frankie tugged at her hair and awkwardly turned her head to stare elsewhere.

"Just. I dunno. You're his friend, I didn't know if you'd tell him." As if Frankie had any right to believe Geralyn would do so after what she did.

"I wouldn't unless you wanted me to." Geralyn didn't take offense or bring up their issue from before. "I'm only telling you about Ray because he wanted me to invite you for that reason. And he just thinks you're cool to hang out with and he thinks you're cute."

"I like parties. I've just been out of the game for a little bit." Frankie wrinkled her nose faintly to recall her last encounter with a boy. They made out at a drive-in movie and Frankie wasn't at all into it, she mostly did it to say she had since her friends constantly encouraged her to give him a chance. He wasn't an awful kisser, his technique would've made her stomach swoop and plummet all the way down if he'd been the right person. Then again, no one was the right person. Frankie constantly had wailing attacks because her own pickiness bothered her relentlessly.

"No problem. It's not hard to get Ray to like you. He likes pretty girls with good music taste." Geralyn's smile was hidden behind the sweep of her scarlet hair moving into her face under the breeze fluttering by.

Frankie fought not to linger on the validation she received being seen as attractive by someone as flawless as Geralyn. Frankie corrected her thoughts; she wasn't flawless, for her flaws were what made her beauty so intriguing to Frankie. Something within her shone outward into her honey whiskey spilled over fresh grass eyes and her curving grin that always lifted higher on one side than the other. Frankie shook herself out of her thoughts the moment she realized the path her eyes were taking while lingering obviously on Geralyn and she sucked in a small deep breath, turning away.

"I'll give it a shot. Thanks for inviting me. I guess I'll see you there, too?" Frankie bounced on her toes hopefully.

"I plan on getting wasted, you know I'll be there for sure." Geralyn swept her hair away from her face and smirked. "Ray's letting me crash at his place after, so I'm being sort of responsible. I drove home drunk one time and ran over a bunny. Most traumatic moment of my life."

"Rest in peace, bunny. I'll probably just ask a friend of mine to take me home. She doesn't drink, her mom can smell alcohol on a person in seconds." Frankie remembered when Alicia drove them over the her place to continue on with their plans of a sleepover, and although Alicia only had a light buzz being the designated driver and Frankie was doing her best to pretend she wasn't fully intoxicated, her mother instantly sniffed it out on both of them and lectured Alicia without shame. Frankie had stood there awkwardly and barely gotten through the impenetrable silence following the shouting, but she was lucky no one sold her out to her parents.

"Won't you get busted?" Geralyn tilted her head to the side curiously.

"Alicia's mom might chew her out, but she kinda looks the other way when it's me. Probably because I'm not her kid, so she doesn't have to worry about it much." Frankie gratefully chose Alicia's house for that reason; Jamia and Kayleigh's parents always gave her the stare of heavy disapproval as though Frankie was a trashy delinquent invading their home, only when she was drunk.

"I'll be glad to have a good time with you then." Geralyn winked, flashing her sunniest smile, and retreated after bidding Frankie a goodbye with a flutter of her fingers that stayed in Frankie's mind all the way until she trailed off to first period, completely forgetting to meet with her friends the way she originally planned.

The remainder of the two weeks fluttered by as steadily as the change of seasons. Frankie's days were filled with blurs of professional high kicks and the vibration of live instruments thrumming invigoratingly under her feet. The summer sun was lessening the brutality of its blaze in increments, but the evidence of it remained in the tan lines left behind on Frankie's skin. The soreness in her limbs was a never-ending nag, but she couldn't back down from cheer practice, such was the life of being one of the prized members of the squad. It almost felt like a cult when their captain reprimanded them for complaining about needing to rest their muscles, demanding perfection since they were slightly behind on consummating their routine when the homecoming game was nearing.

At home, matters were shaky due to Frankie's slight negligence towards her homework, but it was only three days out of week, which she claimed was due to cheerleading practice. Practice wasn't the detour; at the least, not the kind that involved energizing cheers and splits. Frankie kept her visitations to band practice a secret of her own since she was positive her parents wouldn't approve of her wasting her study time taking part in activities that she wasn't fully involved in, she was strictly along for the ride to socialize and view the live music with awed eyes and words of affirmation for the insecurities that came along the way.

Her presence was welcomed each time she hesitantly crossed the threshold into the band room, quite literally as Geralyn eventually moved into a physical base of friendship; plenty of hugs, knees bumping together purposefully, squeezing Frankie's arms whenever she vehemently agreed with one of the comments. Geralyn was quite touchy, not that Frankie minded very much. She was simply unused to it, but that didn't mean she'd refuse any of it. With her openness came the acceptance of her friends beginning to view Frankie as a normal extension they expected whenever they gathered for practice, even Tucker who she met became aquatinted with after the rest of the bunch. They searched for her thoughts, asked her questions about cheerleading and her other hobbies, forming a comradeship Frankie hadn't expected to be given. Each day, as Geralyn tugged her into the band room with a twinkle in her eyes and a grin stretched to absolute beautiful madness, the more grateful Frankie became to not be abandoned due to a mishap. Some days, she wondered if Geralyn would reveal it was all a vindictive ploy where everything would unravel all for the sake of laughing in Frankie's face, but the moment never arrived, and the genuineness exuding from the softened curve of Geralyn's lips tranquilized Frankie's fear.

Upon the band meetings, Frankie attempted to make it a point to converse more with Ray, dissecting each of his responses and his mannerisms to get into the swing of things. Ray was definitely interested— if his wandering eyes, stammering, and gentlemanly gestures weren't enough to make it obvious. Frankie would flush under his admiring glances and starry eyes, unsure if the tightness in her chest was returned sentiment or not; she wasn't sure if she'd ever developed real romantic feelings for anyone before, something that wasn't fleeting or not as serious as she initially thought while getting carried away with the idea of a fairytale in her mind. Despite all of the disappointments, it still existed somewhere deep within her mind, a breathtaking romance that would grow organically and where she least expected it. Call her childish for it, Frankie couldn't resist the temptation of a storybook love portrayed in movies and television.

Her advances were welcome by Ray and rose to the attention of the others who often teased them for flirting openly, exchanging looks, and although Frankie was mostly playing along because being desire was the fucking thrill of a lifetime, she was pretty fond of the guy. He was kind, and it came purely from his heart which wasn't what she was used to. If she came across a nice guy, she could instantly tell when his intentions were different, something purely physical. Home-cooked dinners and 'special places' were all so overused and plastic, especially when their hands crawled up the inside of her leg and pulled her close at the end of the night. Ray was a joy to be around and conversations with him were worth having. They weren't exclusive or even at the stage of anything physical, but something was brewing. Frankie was beginning to wonder if things would take off.

On the night of the party, Geralyn advised Frankie to dress in one of her trampiest outfits to match with her. Frankie knew she'd be throttled before her parents allowed her out of the house in the outfit she anxiously pieced together, so she shoved it in her overnight bag and left the house on her way to Geralyn's in tasteful jeans and a leather jacket draped over her slightly cropped Deftones shirt. Totally inconspicuously, her parents only bid her a good night and told her to stay safe.

Frankie tried not to let her eyeballs fall from their sockets at the sight of Geralyn prancing around in the shortest of short dresses wrapped tight around her body. The bubblegum pink was the least distracting bit, what drew in Frankie's eyes the most was the heart cut-out resting at the top of her abdomen, baring the underside of her breasts while the top was concealed with an off-the-shoulder neckline complimenting her unfairly smooth skin carrying a natural glow of its own. Her hair spun from tropical cherries was done up in high pigtails with two wavy strands framing her face done up for the evening in glitter and dramatic winged eyeliner bringing out the softness of her eye color. Her butterfly earrings and silver bracelets chimed softly as she moved around the room in search for her platform gogo boots she swore she had resting somewhere in her room, and each time she bent over to search underneath a piece of furniture, Frankie turned her head with a burning blush dizzying her reeling head from the frequent flashes of something far too personal to do more than accidentally glance at. Her heart stammered every time Geralyn neared her and her eyes were eventually planted firmly on one specific spot on the ground to avoid staring. Geralyn was mesmerizing to look at, Frankie felt the familiar envy spreading in her chest and her stomach, clenching hard. It started getting lighter with each passing day, which she decided was a good thing at least.

Frankie rushed to change into her outfit when Geralyn no longer needed to use the restroom to finish up her makeup and switch out her silver bracelets for a golden charm bracelet instead. Frankie's apprehension was present when she glanced at herself in the mirror. She didn't possess many extremely revealing outfits the way Geralyn did, but she managed to scrape through each article of clothing and conjure up something that at least could've caught a few pairs of eyes. The dress was black and snug, clinging to her curves and her petite figure, reaching towards the top of her thigh were a leather garter strap and a metal heart ring dug into her skin. The black thigh highs accentuated her athletic legs she took pride in for their curvy build and firmness, her fingers brushing across the hem of the dress tremulously. She kept her hair down and simple, but dark eyeshadow dusted across her eyes as well as intricate spiked liner, her brows filled in with more effort than normal. As she adjusted her industrial piercing she recently switched out for a black bar instead of silver, Frankie swallowed down a deep breath and willed herself not to compare herself to anyone else; she was cute, her style stood out, and she knew she was irresistible when she made herself up.

Frankie stepped out of the restroom and caught onto the last of Geralyn's shouting at Mikey to tell their parents she was crashing at Ray's place whenever they came back from running errands. She was balancing and hopping on one foot as she zipped up her other white boot. At the sound of Frankie's shiny black heels hesitantly moving across the floor, Geralyn planted her foot on the ground and spun around expectantly, her eyebrows raised. Then, her eyes widened comically, her mouth falling open.

Frank stood with her hands behind her back, tightly clasping onto her own fingers. She flushed terribly at Geralyn's eyes falling over her outfit and she squirmed a bit in her spot, wondering if it wasn't nearly enough to fit Geralyn's standards and expectations. Frankie bit down on her lower lip harshly and pressed her legs together.

"I'm not showing nearly as much chest, but I don't really have anything to show." Frankie breathily laughed and gestured to her covered up chest that had always been on the small side, the long sleeves of the dress reaching down to her wrists. Her fingers curled up and she dropped her hands at her sides, wishing she'd chosen something different for a split second when her eyes flashed to Geralyn's chest again and a clenching feeling overtook the inside of her stomach.

"You're fucking hot." Geralyn sounded as though she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. She snapped her mouth shut and laughed almost nervously, running her fingers through her hair. "I mean, it's perfect, Frankie. You don't need to have your tits hanging out to look sexy."

Frankie's blush spread all the way down to her neck. "Really? You think it's sexy?"

"Definitely. I'm just letting mine out 'cause I felt like it." Geralyn's eyes raked over Frankie's body, causing a shiver to coil at the base of her spine, but before it could ripple through her, Geralyn quickly looked away, reaching for her purse strewn across her bed. "Ray will be drooling all over you."

Frankie had forgotten the pair of eyes she was meant to drawn in most importantly were not Geralyn's, but Ray's. The smack down to reality had Frankie drawing in a soft breath to clear through her clouded mind. The only reason she wanted Geralyn's feedback was for validation, she tried to force it to the front of her brain and forget about it within a short time frame. It was idiotic to linger on it. Frankie didn't need validation from anyone before, why did she need it now?

"We should get going." Geralyn hopped to Frankie's side and looped her arm through hers with a cheerful beam. "Mikey, I'll see you tomorrow." She called out on their way out of the bedroom. Allegedly, Mikey wasn't attending because he was a freshman and although Ray considered him one of his best friends, he wasn't condoning him going to a party where drunk people would be all over the place chugging down drinks like water.

"Can't you just dress normally?" Mikey shielded his eyes when he caught sight of his sister bounding down the hallway so scantily clad.

"Don't text or call unless someone's dying!" Geralyn ignored Mikey's comment and flitted out the door with a flushed and exhilarated Frankie in tow.

Ray's place wasn't entirely crowded with people, but the amount was past decent as the sound of socialization rose above the music pounding in the speakers from the sound system. Frankie felt the bass thrumming beneath her heels and vibrating in the walls as she and Geralyn entered the house, eyes scanning over the stairs leading to the second floor and the doors leading out to a spacious patio beyond an occupied pool gleaming from the colorful lights flashing underneath the surface. Frankie sniffed out the pizza boxes laying with the beverages in the kitchen, capturing a whiff of alcohol clinging to the atmosphere as people rocked back and forth or chattered in groups of plenty. Frankie recognized her friends in the crowd, sipping from red plastic cups and grinning amongst each other as they conversed. Geralyn caught Frankie watching her friends from afar and grabbed her hand to they wouldn't be torn apart easily, leading her to them with a grin and a promise to properly introduce herself since Frankie was open-minded enough to invite Geralyn's friends into her life effortlessly.

Drinks were passed around as promised, mixtures of strong whiskey masked by the carbonation of sweet Coke lessening the sharpness of the alcohol. Geralyn acquainted her with the heavenly mixture of tequila and Sprite blended with traces of lime, bringing her two rounds of the beverage while enjoying her own dosage. Frankie was a lightweight, she knew her tolerance laid thin and yet she relished in the way she unwinded whenever she simply dismissed what would happen the morning after she drank her issues away in favor of letting loose, becoming more animated with every sip she took. It was as though the soreness in her limbs and the pressure of staying on top of her flawless grades melted away as she spread her social wings and danced with her friends, laughing herself breathless as Jamia pretended to dirty dance with her and Alicia snorted hard enough for the burn of alcohol to trigger a hysterical coughing fit mingled with bubbly giggles. Kayleigh danced with Geralyn only to grill her about where she shopped for her clothing and accessories, being a fashion enthusiast herself more for designing purposes rather than embellishing herself in her discoveries due to her laidback nature.

Eventually, after too many drinks, Ray found Frankie and her friends in the crowd once they were into the music and Frankie was way past the stage where she could merely say she was tipsy and everyone believed her. Frankie flung her arms around his neck when they greeted each other, giggling as she rose to her tip toes to plaster herself against him in a somewhat awkward hug since Ray tensed up the moment their bodies aligned.

"I was just talking about you!" Frankie shouted over the music, perhaps a bit too loudly right against Ray's ear. He winced slightly and Frankie giggled, pulling back and wrapping Ray's arms around her waist.

"That's always nice to hear." Ray's large eyes drank in Frankie's outfit, causing another elated giggle to spill from her. "Wow, you look — you look amazing."

"Geralyn told me to embrace my slutty side for the night." Frankie cupped her hands over her chest and bunched her breasts up. "Sorry I don't have bigger tits!"

"Frankie, jesus, I didn't actually say that." Geralyn interjected by batting Frankie's hands away from her own chest before Ray choked on his tongue. "Don't get too happy, Toro, we're in public."

"You both look gorgeous." Ray sheepishly stepped away from Frankie clinging to him and raked a hand through his hair nervously. "I'm glad you could come."

"Ray, I want you to meet my bestest friends in the world," Frankie's loose arms roped around her friends dancing nearby and shoved them towards her, to which they answered to with a confused laugh. "Alicia, Jamia, and Kayleigh Goldsworthy. They don't all have the same last name, I just like saying Kayleigh's."

"I know Alicia, but I can't say I know you ladies as well." Ray gestured to Jamia and Kayleigh. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Oh my god, Frankie, you didn't say he was hot." Jamia laughed obnoxiously and pulled Ray into a firm handshake. "Nice meeting you. If you hurt Frankie, I'll be forced to kill you. Girl code.

"Don't take her seriously." Frankie shooed Jamia's hand away and rolled her head that suddenly felt so heavy against a bewildered Ray's shoulder, feeling the way her chest trembled with suppressed giggles. She wasn't even certain what she was laughing at, she just felt amazing. Her friends resumed to dancing together, trying not to spill their drinks all over their outfits when others kept bumping into them.

"You're so fucking drunk." Geralyn jabbed Frankie's cheek gently with her finger. Frankie threatened to bite it and Geralyn snatched her hand away with a high pitched laugh making Frankie's grin widen. Geralyn was pulled into her friend's dancing circle and she began swaying her hips, capturing Frankie's eye for a moment before she snapped her attention away from how they seemed to fluidly rock.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Frankie looked up at Ray's wide eyes and waved at him. "Great party. You should throw them more often and invite me to all of them."

"Glad you're all having a good time." Ray's full lips settled into a softer smile than Frankie expected and he tapped her nose with a quick finger.

"Dance with me, Ray." Frankie twirled around him, reaching for his arms to circle them around her waist again as she stumbled close. The smell of his cologne was familiar territory as she began to sway, shutting her eyes for a moment as Ray moved in towards her obligingly. He gravitated towards her under her order and she felt empowered by her own body, her voice, the way the dress she wore clung to every portion of her body that mattered when it came to demanding the attention of the eyes in the room. She pressed herself against Ray and dragged them further into the sea of people to sink into the rhythm of the blaring guitar being buried by the enticing rumble of the bassline knitting over it for once.

Admittedly, the feeling of Ray's body was disorienting underneath the cloud of alcohol polluting the normal clarity of Frankie's mind, but she clung on and kept herself in a mindset where she believed it was what was best for her. The reason she attended the party that evening was for Ray, to see if there was any potential in the direction they were headed towards, and she needed to want it. She focused on the sway of their bodies together moving to the beat of the music, Ray's hands sliding over her waist and back, but never daring to venture further. She wished they would to see if she yearned for more of it, if her hands would be tempted to follow the same path and discover the familiar sharp points and coarseness of a man. It always made her twitch inside, which she knew was normal from the way women always described how men tended to be rougher, their personal bits unattractive most of the time, but the desire for intimacy always took over and made those initial thoughts fade.

"You can do this," Frankie reached around for Ray's hands and dragged them down to her ass, watching the way his eyes bulged. "It's fine."

"Jesus," Ray breathed and looked around, "Someone's gonna see."

"Don't care." Frankie continued swaying, ignoring how Ray's hands felt too hot resting stiffly over her ass. Once again, she lied through her teeth. "Feels nice."

Ray was uncertain, but it gradually melted away as they continued to dance, practically grinding together at some point where people closed in the more they joined together as a new song flowed through the speakers. Frankie shut her eyes, the taste of alcohol strong under her tongue and still stinging in her nose. She spun in slow circles, focusing on the buzz, drifting through her own hazy clouds until hands were clasping onto her shoulders and tugging her away from the overly hot body causing her to break out in a thin sheen of sweat while they danced together.

"Frankie, you're literally gonna fall on your ass." Geralyn's voice was right against Frankie's ear, breathing warmly across her skin. Frankie yelled at the suddenness and her eyes shot open, seeing Ray flushed and embarrassed right across from her.

"Huh?" Frankie tried to spin around, but Geralyn gently turned her on her own accord. Her eyes were glassy from her own alcohol consumption, but she didn't seem to take it as hard as Frankie who was allegedly tipping backwards.

"You should get some water, take a break." Ray sounded concerned.

"On it, no worries." Geralyn tugged Frankie away from Ray and slung an arm around her waist, a languid grin stretched across her face. "Frankie and I are gonna take a little break right now."

"We are?" Frankie pouted in Ray's direction just to get a rise out of him. Ray smiled and nodded, pointing up the stairs.

"You can go to my room if you want. It's the one with a keep out sign on it. The lock can be undone with the key I hid in the hallway plant." Ray generously offered. Frankie was about to blabber about how considerate Ray was, but Geralyn was already thanking him, dragging them towards the ice chest to collect a few bottles of water to carry with them.

"Isn't he a great guy?" Frankie slurred.

"So great." Geralyn snickered.

They stumbled together up the stairs, Geralyn being the main support system since Frankie nearly rolled her ankle in her heels trying to show off and skip two steps at a time. Geralyn hauled her up by her waist and playfully scolded her for her stupid drunken thoughts, telling her she couldn't afford to break any bones while being a prized cheerleader. Frankie allowed herself to be lead to Ray's bedroom after they located the key hidden in the potted soil of the plant at the end of the hallway. Geralyn safely guided them inside, shutting the door behind them louder than she intended. She flicked on the light to chase out the darkness and Frankie whooped at the glow of a lamp as well as the blue LED lights roping along the top of the four walls. She twirled once they were inside, not realizing how much the music pounded annoyingly through her skull until it was dull background noise she barely felt under her feet as she made her way to the edge of the thankfully made bed. Frankie plopped down onto it and giggled at the sound of the springs creaking from the sudden weight.

"Heads up." Geralyn tossed a bottle in Frankie's direction for her to catch. Frankie pushed against it instead of capturing it in midair and laughed hysterically when it tumbled to the floor and rolled. Geralyn joined in and grabbed it from the ground, resting it in Frankie's hands instead. Frankie was face to face, or face to chest, with Geralyn's tits that were about to pop out through the cut-out in her dress.

"Put those things away before someone sees them." Frankie poked Geralyn's stomach and Geralyn wriggled away, falling down onto the bed next to her.

"Everyone's already seen them. And stared at them." Geralyn cupped a hand around her right breast and sighed. "I regret this, now I'm cold. Are you cold, Frankie? It's freezing in here."

"Nah," Frankie drawled, "I was sweating downstairs."

"That'll happen when you're practically fucking someone in a public place."

"We were not fucking!" Frankie cried, her fingers slipping across the condensation collected on her cool water bottle. "I did feel his dick a little though."

Geralyn screeched and fell into a fit of giggles, pressing the ice cold bottle against the side of Frankie's neck. Frankie yelped at the freezing touch against her overheated skin and swatted Geralyn's arm, eliciting more laughter from her. Their giggling fit lasted for a long moment and gradually died down to faded chuckles drifting between them. They fell onto their backs at some point, pressed side to side, their dresses askew and definitely revealing more than they'd intended, but they weren't sober enough to correct themselves and realize how they were sprawled out. Frankie turned her head and saw Geralyn counting all of the classic rock posters pinned to the ceiling, mouthing the names of the bands to herself.

"No one's got better music taste than Ray Toro," Geralyn said slowly, then added with a glinting smirk, "Except for me."

"Yours is better 'cause you know who Slutever is and he doesn't."

"I have such good music taste." Geralyn sighed deeply and her eyes fluttered shut. "You wanna know something?"

"Sure."

"I love myself so much." Geralyn's snicker developed into a full laugh bouncing through the room with a pleasant resonance despite how dorky it became when she was intoxicated. "If someone cloned me, I'd definitely date my double."

"That's so narcissistic." Frankie whispered, giggling under her breath.

"I don't care." Geralyn threw her arms around herself in a sloppy embrace. "I love me."

"I love you, too, Geralyn." Frankie patted the side of Geralyn's face with her open palm, some of her glitter transferring to her skin. She rubbed it off on Geralyn's dress lazily and drew her hand back.

"I love you, Frankie. You're so cool." Geralyn sighed deeply and tossed a leg over Frankie's. Frankie's eyes widened with a tinge of sobriety breaking through her rocking tunnel mindset at the feeling of how smooth Geralyn's skin was against Frankie's shin. Her warmth wasn't suffocating, but pleasing, like soft grass warmed by spring sunshine. Frankie licked her lips that were barren of gloss she applied before she arrived, rubbed away from the intake of beverages and wiping her mouth to rid of droplets lingering at the corners of her lips throughout the night. She lulled her head back and shut her eyes for a long moment to focus on her choppy breathing instead of Geralyn's leg heavily resting over hers.

"You smell good." Geralyn muttered, and turned her head to stick her nose in Frankie's hair, causing Frankie to twitch and make a surprised sound.

"I probably smell like party and the whiskey sweats." Frankie weakly batter in the general direction of Geralyn's head.

"No, you smell like . . . peaches." Geralyn sniffed experimentally again. "Yup. Peaches."

"You smell like an island." Frankie sluggishly tapped the side of Geralyn's face as it turned away from her hair. "Like. Tropical."

"Pina colada?"

"Nope, like fruits and . . . something lemony." Frankie rubbed a hand underneath her nose.

"I like lemons."

"Me too."

A stretch of comfortable silence followed. Frankie went to take a sip of water, the droplets leaking from the corners of her lips, and she rubbed them away with a grumble. Geralyn's shin rubbed against Frankie's when she moved and Frankie confided in the closeness.

"Dude. Ray's laptop is right here." Geralyn sat up and scooted towards the corner of the bed.

Frankie's eyes flashed open and followed Geralyn's direction. The smooth surface of an macbook rested over the folded throw blanket resting at the edge of the bed. Geralyn retrieved it after reaching dramatically. She inched her way back against the pillows, gesturing with a nod of her head for Frankie to follow. Curious, Frankie followed in suite, crawling up to the pillows and collapsing on top of them with her hands folded across her stomach.

"What are we doing?" Frankie rearranged a pillow underneath the back of her head to prop herself up. Geralyn crossed her ankles and piled a few pillows in the scarce space between them to rest the laptop there, awkwardly angling her hand to pry it open and reveal the home screen.

"Let's look at his internet history." Geralyn snorted at the security password she needed to type in, but it wouldn't be a challenge when it was obviously scrawled onto a sticky note underneath the keys. _brianmayrulez_.

"Probably just a bunch of illegally downloaded comics and guitar tabs."

"Every guy watches porn, Frankie." Geralyn typed in the password in a flourish and clicked into the internet explorer with a few open tabs awaiting.

Frankie's eyes widened as the words cut through her peaceful drunken state. She frantically scanned over the open tabs, but ended up relieved to find all of them were relatively innocent except for the faintly suspicious tab with an image of Brody Dalle looking her finest. Frankie frowned as she remembered they bared a slight resemblance when she was dressed up, so her friends have mentioned in the past.

"I don't think Ray's the type of guy to watch porn." Frankie weakly protested. She was certain Ray had . . . whatever needs all the other boys felt, but she wasn't sure if he'd resort to that.

"You'd be surprised," Geralyn clicked into the web history with a trace of a smirk. "I'm pretty sure almost everyone watches porn."

Frankie's poor heart launched into a frantic pace at the implication behind Geralyn's statement. She swallowed hard and tore her eyes away from the screen, flitting over her face. "Do you watch porn?"

"Duh," Geralyn tittered, "not the straight stuff where the girls are yowling like cats in heat, but I watch it."

Frankie swiped her tongue across her lips. Her impression of porn was always towards the negative side despite never shaming sex workers for simply making a living. She never wandered across those dangerous websites out of fear of getting caught, and her curiosity was never strong enough to risk it. She'd seen explicit movies, overly revealing scenes making her flush deeply and shield her eyes with her hands where her fingers were slightly spread to peer through the cracks. That was the extent of it.

"Then what . . . what do you watch?" Frankie found a tremble in her voice that shouldn't have made an appearance. She cleared it away and wiped her clammy fingers across her dress.

"Apparently the same shit Toro does." Geralyn slapped a hand across her mouth to conceal her scandalized laughter. She pointed to the screen for Frankie to take in what she so quickly located.

Frankie turned her head and squinted through the faint blur in her vision to jumble together the letters in the screen. When they registered, a gasp loudly got sucked down her throat, followed by a nervous single laugh pinching her chest.

There was plenty of what Geralyn searched for, only the explicit adjectives and brief descriptions were entailing the type of material Ray searched for was between lesbian women. There were a few heterosexual videos scattered among the majority, but it wasn't nearly enough to overpower what caught Frankie's eye the most.

"A lot of it is homemade, too! That means he's been around long enough to know that's the good shit." Geralyn tossed her head back and let out a delighted laugh. "Busted. God, I'm kind of embarrassed to say I recognize some of these titles."

"You've watched this?" Frankie spat in a mix of curiosity and surprise still rocking through her to realize her assumption about Ray was wrong.

"Yeah." Geralyn's cheeks flooded pink despite the lack of shame coloring her features. She arched an eyebrow suspiciously at Frankie. "You've never seen any of this stuff?"

Frankie's gasp catching in her throat was audible, a little hiccup making itself known. God, her stomach felt strange when Geralyn's curiosity morphed into an almost knowing look, astonishment rounding her lips. Frankie grimaced and turned away, tangling her fingers together uneasily.

"I don't watch porn." Frankie coughed out. "Don't ask me why not 'cause it's stupid. I just don't."

"You're more innocent than I thought." Geralyn teased.

"I've fucked before, I just don't feel the need to look up anything." Frankie felt the need to defend herself when Geralyn found amusement in Frankie's lack of experience in pornography intake, leading her to make wrong assumptions. Frankie wasn't some delicate thing, maybe Geralyn hadn't been around enough people to hear about it.

"Do you wanna see what it's about?" Geralyn looked between the screen and Frankie, genuinely asking a question that caused Frankie's face to burst into flames burning hot under her skin.

"Wh—what?"

"What?"

"You want to watch porn together?" Frankie squawked.

"Oh, come on, me and my other friends would do it just to laugh at it." Geralyn rolled her eyes and held back her grin. "Let me pop your porn cherry. Then you don't ever have to watch it again if you don't want to."

"Don't phrase it like that." Frankie stared up at the ceiling with large eyes, definitely not sober enough to process.

"I'll turn it off if you hate it."

Frankie's first instinct was to slam the laptop shut and tell Geralyn to forget the idea because it wasn't going to happen. It wasn't their device to begin with and the idea of watching something so intimate right beside another person who was practically touching them from how close they were made her want to sink into herself. Yet, she couldn't deny the quieted voice piping in the background of her thoughts, progressively getting louder the longer the silence stretched on with Geralyn's suggestion laying thick in the atmosphere. Frankie kept away from everything mostly because of her fear, and due to her fear, she convinced herself she didn't need to be exposed to those experiences. But, now that there was a way to dig into her abandoned curiosity without any consequences getting in the way, it began to sound tempting the longer she sat on it. Frankie chewed her lower lip and started to waver. Her eyes traveled back to the screen. She didn't want to say it out loud, she couldn't when Geralyn was staring at her.

Geralyn thankfully caught on and chuckled through her nose. She adjusted the laptop between them for the screen to be perfectly visible to both of them and scrolled through the list of videos before clicking on one. Immediately, Frankie was bombarded by explicit images from the advertisement banners and the suggested videos lined up to the side of the main thumbnail practically screaming at her. Frankie made a noise of surprise and shut her eyes quickly, evoking a giggle from Geralyn.

"Crazy, right?" Geralyn opened the video and nudged Frankie. "The scary ads are gone now."

Frankie cracked her eyes open and saw movement. The video was blown wide on the screen, the volume adjusted to a moderate level that wasn't loud enough for someone to pass by the locked door and assume the audio meant people were fucking behind it. Frankie was actually surprised by the softness of the opening, the realness of the slightly grainy camera capturing two girls tangled together on a messy bed. One was brunette and fair skinned like a porcelain doll, the other had gorgeous olive skin and long black hair. They were kissing passionately, hands wandering, soft noises being exchanged between moving lips. They were dressed in their underwear still, lingerie as they were surrounded by candlelight, and Frankie wondered if it was meant to mimic a special occasion where the girls celebrated in their own way. The way lovers did.

"I chose one that didn't immediately leap into nakedness." Geralyn's voice was lowered as if not the disturb the girls on the screen.

Frankie nervously licked her lips and willed her shoulders to stop being so rigid or she was going to end up feeling seriously sore on top of her major hangover in the morning. She watched the girls on the screen sink deeper into their kissing as fingers carded through long hair and legs tangled together, hips twitching towards each other. Frankie caught a few flashes of tongue sliding between full lips and her breath did a strange hitch. Her eyes followed the path of hands stroking along curvy bodies, drinking in the smoothness of skin, and skimming across the clothed areas gradually becoming bare to the screen. Frankie's eyes had rounded at some point where the bras were unhooked in fluid motions, their breasts tumbling free and pressing together so naturally, neither of the girls thinking about it or attempting to find ways to jigsaw together; they just did. There was no awkward shifting, no need to pull away for longer than small increments at a time, and even those were to simply drink each other in and savor the feeling of each other's touch traveling to newly exposed patches of skin. There was something so different about it. Time was on their side and there wasn't a single reason to move forward too quickly, there didn't seem to be a more dominant presence rushing the other into things. They were building each other up because they knew they'd be breaking each other apart in the most sensual way there was.

Frankie was mesmerized by it.

Geralyn made a comment at one point, but Frankie was getting too absorbed in the girls guiding their hands between each other's legs to pay attention to the words. It was then that Frankie felt tingles rushing all under her skin, flashing heatedly in her blood rushing quicker than ever, and she realized with a hitched breath that she was getting turned on by what she witnessed. Really turned on; her stomach plummeted and something hot kicked to life in her lower body when the girls rolled over and one of them began grinding against the other's thigh, soft moans filtering from her glistening lips. Frankie felt herself pulse, and the motion had her gasping, redness flooding all over the place. She felt Geralyn's eyes on her face and Frankie pressed her thighs together tightly, not that it helped much. It actually made it much worse, the pressure zapping up between her legs so another pulse rocked through her.

"This one's my favorite." Geralyn whispered softly. "It's so natural. This is really what it feels like and they caught it on camera somehow."

Frankie couldn't handle what Geralyn was whispering about. Her hammering heartbeat thudded in her veins as she looked back at the screen to see the girls were slotting together, rocking their hips, guiding themselves in a passionate lip-lock muffling their soft sounds of pleasure genuinely pried from their cores. Frankie felt her mouth go dry.

"Girls are so gentle," Geralyn continued, seeming to be closer that time, but Frankie couldn't look at her, she couldn't. "There's no rush. We have so much time to feel and appreciate everything."

Frankie breathed in tremulously and let it out through her nose. Fucking Geralyn. She shut her eyes for a second, and when she opened them again, she was mortified by the whine slipping from her lips. The scene cut to a shot of the brunette between the black haired girl's legs, her head resting there as her tongue slowly licked a long line from her entrance to her clit, circling around it teasingly. Frankie shut her mouth in a tight line and felt wetness pooling rapidly between her legs, her pussy felt fucking volcanic from how fast it was happening. She'd never felt that way in her entire life and it was ripping the air from her lungs.

"You don't know what it feels like to get eaten out until a girl does it to you." Geralyn's lips were moving right against Frankie's ear, making Frankie's skin tingle in all the right places. "All of this girl's moans, everything she says, it's not an exaggeration. It's that good."

"Gee." Frankie choked out. What the fuck was happening? Why wasn't Geralyn's commentary putting her off? She should've been shrinking away from her, telling her to shut off the video because she was uncomfortable and she wasn't interested in women even in porn where it was all fabricated for the pleasure of the viewer, but instead, her pussy was throbbing, and she knew that if she were to dip her fingers down there, they'd come away so slick to the point where she wouldn't be able to believe it was possible for a girl to get so wet.

"It's okay, Frankie." Geralyn's nose brushed against Frankie's shoulder as she titled her head down. "It's hot, isn't it?"

"I don't . . . I don't know why . . ." Frankie's throat was far too dry to continue on. She squirmed as she snuck another look at the video and found the brunette was eating out her partner with far more passion than she began with, keeping her spread open as she tongue-fucked her deeply, two fingers rubbing tight over her clit. Frankie clamped her thighs together and struggled not to let another humiliating noise leak out of her.

"It always gets me wet, too." Geralyn breathed.

Frankie couldn't resist looking at her anymore when her silky words punched through her chest like nothing ever before. Her lips were open and she turned to meet Geralyn's hooded eyes boring deeply into Frankie, a pink blush unfurled in her cheeks as her cherry red hair framed her perfect face. Her chest moved up and down unevenly as though she struggled to breathe too, rosiness reaching her breasts where her skin was so soft and flawless, pale like the moonlight. Frankie could see Geralyn's thighs pressed tight together the same way hers were and her heart dropped low into her gut that was stirring from pure heat. Her dress was rucked up, her hand stroking her own hip slowly, and Frankie swallowed audibly. She looked back up at Geralyn, hearing the distant audio of the girls in the background.

Maybe it was the alcohol influencing her next movements. Maybe Frankie had something to be ashamed of in the morning, or maybe she wouldn't remember it at all, but nothing mattered in the short few seconds it took to creep her hand down between her legs that fell open to brush her fingers over her underwear getting soaked through with her wetness. Her lids fluttered and she spread her thighs wider, stroking her pussy with a ghostly touch through the material. She pulsed hard, the sensitivity making a weak moan pitch high in her throat. She shivered and swore she heard Geralyn mimic her noise in a breathier manner. Frankie peeled her heavy eyelids back and saw Geralyn watching her with blown pupils and parted full lips her heavy breaths pushed through. She shoved the material of her dress up to her hips to reveal her cotton and lacy panties, reaching between her legs to softly stroke over her pussy the same way Frankie was doing.

It was a big deal — a _huge_ deal, one Frankie would never think of doing while sober, so she convinced herself, but there wasn't enough clarity in their minds to realize any of it. They were going by instinct, and their instinct was to satisfy the raging need to get off after being so riled up. Except, they were no longer watching the video. They were watching each other as they eased into increasing the pressure, stroking themselves slowly, letting out little gasps as their legs twitched from the sensitive pleasure streaming into them. Frankie felt her underwear plastering to her from the amount of wetness secreting from her, dampening her fingers as the fabric was soaked through. Amazed by her own wetness, her gaze followed the length of Geralyn's arm leading to her hand working between her open legs to find she was in no better condition. Geralyn knew she was watching, she maybe even relished in it, so she teased the insides of her thighs for a moment, spreading her legs wide and pushing them back towards her chest a bit as she shifted further onto her back. Her eyes connected with Frankie's as she traced the band of her underwear, toying with the little ribbon stitched onto the top, and daringly dipped her fingers underneath.

Frankie's whimper floated over the sound of Geralyn's fingers slipping over her wet pussy. Fuck, she was so soaked that it was audible, the sounds of Geralyn exploring herself. Geralyn's hushed moans grew in volume once she was touching herself properly and she tilted her head back in bliss, her other hand gripping her thigh tightly to keep herself spread open. Frankie gasped at the sight as another wave of pulsating heat traveled through her, a new sensation she couldn't ignore without torturing herself. Frankie fumbled with the waistband of her underwear and shoved her hand inside it. Once her fingers were sliding between her pussy lips and rapidly rubbing tight circles across her clit, Frankie couldn't contain any noises she made. She was so astoundingly sensitive that it was almost too much to touch herself, but she couldn't stop, it was like a deepset ache instilled under her skin that couldn't be satiated, pulling her apart and demanding pleasure or else she'd explode. The incessant need drew Frankie to spreading her legs wide and moving her fingers side to side across her clit in rapid movements making her mouth hang open, her chest heaving, wetness dripping all the way down and creating a mess out of her. Geralyn's eyes on her were not turning her off, but Frankie came to the conclusion that they were doing it for her.

The sound was too much for Frankie to bear, a melody of harmonizing moans and dripping fingers constantly slipping over themselves in their desperate need to come. Frankie's hips were rocking, her cunt was aching from the overwhelming desire, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from Geralyn's knuckles lifting the fabric of her tight panties as she crooked her fingers to slide them deep inside herself. Geralyn was gasping and rolling her hips down onto her own hand, and the sound, fuck— Frankie could hear it every time her fingers plunged inside, her thumb clumsily gliding over her clit. Frankie was breathing hard and working herself faster, and everything was magnified when Geralyn's moans got shorter, higher, telling Frankie that she'd crooked her fingers in exactly the right position. Somehow, that punched through Frankie's gut to see Geralyn fucking herself, her legs trembling as she hiked them up higher and higher as if to present herself. Frankie wasn't even thinking about the video anymore— it was just Geralyn, Geralyn's wet mouth, her tits catching that gorgeous rosy hue from her flush, her full thighs spread apart and her hand fucking herself in just the right way, soaking through her underwear just like Frankie so the scent of sex filled the air.

When Geralyn came, it was a little abrupt. She let out a little hoarse cry and snapped her legs shut, her back arching, her fingers rolling over her clit as she pulsed through it. Frankie was just on the brink, fucking herself in ways she'd never do when she was alone because there was no possible way to turn herself on that level of intensity. She fell over the edge when Geralyn moaned with her wet mouth and slid her dripping fingers past her lips, sucking them clean and gathering the taste of herself on her tongue. Frankie came so hard she panicked for a brief moment that with the way her muscles were clenching, she'd cramp horrifically from the power of it, but it never came. She was instead rocking her hips hard, rolling onto her side and knocking into Geralyn, her fingers sinking deep into her pussy to press against her spot perfectly through the volcanic waves churning through her to the point of driving her to madness. Her lungs and throat were raw, and although it was only her hand that did all the work, she felt like she'd been fucked three times without a pause in between. Fuck, that couldn't even compare. She never came when she hooked up, no one could ever finish her. Frankie rode through it and stroked her pussy after drawing her fingers out, amazing by how hard it throbbed in the afterglow.

Their ragged breathing created a choppy pattern shared between the both of them as they laid through the waves spilling over them. Frankie's body radiated heat and sweat gathered underneath her hairline, sticky under her breasts and the backs of her knees from when she'd at some point hiked her legs into the same position as Geralyn. Her eyesight was a blur as her head pounded at the rush of blood mingling with the alcohol temporarily ingrained into her veins. Geralyn was a blur of colors through Frankie's heavy eyelids, a smudge of red and pink and porcelain. It wasn't until she felt a gentle hand stroking along her cheek that Frankie choked down a solid gasp clearing up her clouded vision halfway. Frankie jerked back and tore her hand out of her underwear quickly. Suddenly, she was mortified by the string of wetness striping across her dress and the amount coating her fingers. Her head snapped to the side and she realized the video was long over—Frankie hadn't jerked off to that, no, it felt similar to colliding with a brick wall to realize that she'd gotten off to Geralyn.

"Fuck." Frankie breathed unevenly. She yanked herself off the bed on wobbling legs and nearly collapsed back onto it, her cheeks burning at the moisture and stickiness gathered uncomfortably between her legs. She couldn't look at Geralyn, Frankie was convinced she wouldn't be able to look at herself for the rest of the night, not after what she'd done in a drunken state.

It wasn't normal. Staring at your friend's chest as often as possible, getting flustered when she winked and tossed her hair which Frankie thought held the most intoxicating scent on the planet, eagerly lapping up the way your friend touched herself beside you. Above all things, masturbating to the sight of your friend fucking herself, enjoying it more than all of the sex you had in your entire lifetime, it wasn't fucking normal. Frankie wasn't interested in girls. Frankie was the perfect image of a good girl, she was meant to marry the man of her dreams and give her family the grandchildren they raved over having one day. Frankie was supposed to move into the suburbs with her perfect family, adopt tons of dogs, host homely barbecues beside her husband while cradling her pregnant stomach. Her life wasn't meant to be painted in the image of lusting after a girl, making a whore out of herself by getting off in front of her and fucking loving it. What would her parents think of her? What about all the boys she kissed and dated, what would they tell people?

Geralyn was calling out to Frankie, but Frank was scrambling with herself, adjusting her dress as she swayed on her feet sprinting to the restroom. Thankfully, it was vacant, so she slammed herself inside and locked it shut. She immediately went to scrub away the leftover reminder of her explicit mistake burning shamefully under her skin, pumping a handful of soap into her palms and rapidly scrubbing away under the cold stream of water coming as a shock on her sensitive skin. Frankie didn't dare meet her own eyes in the mirror, feeling the way they burned from lapping up every visible body part belonging to Geralyn and relishing in the sight of it as she— god, what the fuck was she going to do? Frankie was drunk, she was on the verge of heaving into the toilet as reality threatened to set in atop of the haze, and she reeked of sex. Frankie's chest moved up and down rapidly despite her attempts to even out her breathing. She forced herself to accept it wouldn't happen any time soon and barged out of the restroom after her hands were clean. She needed to leave immediately.

She found Alicia who was relatively sober surrounded by her flock of hammered friends playing beer pong on the cleared coffee table where bystanders cheered them on. Alicia's elated grin faded the moment she registered Frankie practically hyperventilating as she desperately tugged her arm to gain her attention.

"Frankie? What's the matter?" Alicia's eyes scanned over Frankie multiple times to assure nothing nightmarish happened while she slipped away upstairs.

"I need to go." Frankie's trembling voice was barely audible over the pounding music grating her nerves as it ricocheted painfully through her skull.

"Now?"

"Right now," Frankie gripped the sides of her head with a sickening feeling swirling through her insides. "I can't stay here a moment longer, I fucking— let's just go. _Please_."

Alicia hesitantly glanced at her friends who paid no mind to what unfolded only a foot away from them, oblivious in their cheerful party game. Frankie preferred to keep it that way. The less people knew the better. Eventually, Alicia nodded, grabbing her bag and Frankie's from the entryway closet and curling a protective arm around Frankie's waist to guide her stumbling form through her sweet escape, the open doorway. Frankie blearily looked past Alicia's stony and concerned expression to peer over her shoulder, nearly losing her balance again. Her eyes locked with Geralyn's which were wide with consternation as she stood frozen at the bottom for the stairs, her outfit as askew as her now unruly hair. Frankie nearly flinched at the sight of her and felt her heart begin to wilt. As the petals fluttered to the bottom of her gut, Frankie felt her last of her restraint cut loose. She wrenched herself out of Alicia's secure grip and leaned over the bushes to empty her stomach, gasping at the suddenness of her heavy heaving.

Alicia rubbed her back and held her hair away from her face as Frankie expelled whatever was willing to spill out to her, eventually she was choking on bitterness and sobbing softly at how debilitating it all was. Alicia soothed her softly with words going unintelligible through the rush of blood in Frankie's ears and she gently guided Frankie to her car when she was stable enough to walk, so weak that her knees wobbled with every step. Frankie knew it wasn't only the alcohol taking a toll on her.

On the drive home and after a miserable block of silence while Frankie leaned back and shut her eyes tight, Alicia asked, "Did someone hurt you?"

Frankie's eyes peeled open slowly and her eyebrows furrowed. "Wha'?"

"You can tell me, Frankie. Did someone hurt you or try to hurt you?" Alicia's voice showed the sincerity of her concrete concern.

Frankie scoffed softly. Everything was plentifully consensual, that wasn't the issue. If only Alicia knew. "It was nothing like that. I jus' felt myself getting sick. Wanted to get out of there before I vommed in front of almost the whole school."

"Frankie, you — you reek of sex and booze," Alicia chuckled mirthlessly. "I just wanted to make sure."

Frankie's face flushed a shade of red she was certain hadn't existed until the blood collected under her skin. She crossed her legs tightly and felt sickness wash over her again, forcing it down with a few deep breaths.

"It wasn't like that." Frankie whispered with frailty. "It was just. A mistake. I shouldn't have done that while I was drunk."

"Did someone take advantage of you?"

"No." Frankie snapped harshly before realizing her own tone towards her friend who only sought out to protect her. She sighed deeply after a moment of thick silence and opened her eyes to look at Alicia. "I'm sorry. We were both just as drunk. I don't feel well, I'm sorry I snapped."

"It's fine." Alicia softened and pulled into the driveway of her house. "When we get inside, I'm gonna fill you up with water and you're gonna get some rest after that."

Frankie nodded gravely. She looked at Alicia, and with the kindness shining in her eyes, she almost spilled her secrets out to her. But something tangled up at the back of her throat and her entire chest radiated with bleeding guilt to realize even with one of her best friends, she feared judgement. Frankie didn't even know what she wanted or what was happening to her, at least not in her current state of being throughly wasted.

"I love you." Frankie whispered, her eyes welling with tears.

Alicia frowned sympathetically. "I love you, too."

Once inside, Frankie was nearly drowning in several bottles of water she gulped down as she realized her own thirst the moment Alicia planted them in her hands. She threw it all up, consumed one more bottle, and struggled to keep Alicia's suspiciousness at bay when she practically shouted at her not to help her undress to change into her pajamas the way she normally did when she was too drunk to even keep her balance for long. Frankie knew what laid beneath her dress and the burning shame between her thighs was still present whenever she moved, so she did her best to clean herself up, fighting to bite down the welling sobs resting tight deep in her throat. All she could see was Geralyn's face before she left, and the way it looked when it was screwed up in ecstasy, something that should've been kept sacred and away from Frankie's knowledge.

Alicia was asleep deep into the night and only then did Frankie allowed her tears to spill freely. Her skin felt sore from thinking about the way she'd danced with Ray earlier, pressing right up against him to find a thrill in his reaction to her nearness, but there was nothing but clear absence making her heart plummet towards the ground the longer she rummaged through the memory in search of the elusive spark she read into her entire life, guiding herself through multiple brief romances to finally unearth it— but it never came. The only time she felt explosions in the night ricochet through every particle of her being was the time her eyes locked with Geralyn's and found undiluted desire ringing through irises resembling things Frankie had forgotten about, such as the purity of what youth was meant to be like and the beauty of life lived to the fullest. Frankie's sobs were difficult to muffle when they only built to realize the way her thoughts were running in patterns infested with Geralyn. She was unshakable, burrowed under Frankie's skin, and there was no presence of envy, it was never envy.

Frankie drifted off to sleep from exhaustion and the strain on her emotions, afraid even in her dreams where she encountered a repeat of her secret searing the underside of her tongue where she stored it out of sight.

The weekend rolled by in a blur as Frankie battled with the remnants of a stubborn hangover piercing through her skull. She vowed to never drink again, but she knew herself, and she'd be right on top of joining in on the reckless fun served up on a silver platter at the next party she attended. She slept through the days and ignored her worried parents who believed she caught a stomach bug. It was believable enough; Frankie was too perfect to consume alcohol behind her parents' backs. With that way of thinking, she was also too angelic of a person to ever smoke a cigarette every now and then, too pure to fuck in the backseat and make-out for fun, even if it wasn't fun at all in the end. Frankie's parents would be aghast to ever figure out the truth behind her churning stomach and the splitting headache thumping in her skull incessantly.

Frankie buried herself under her blankets and kept her curtains shut. If her head was at ease for the briefest moment, she drowned her coherent thoughts with Around the Fur blaring through her headphones to bury herself in the noise. Each time she brushed up on her reality, her chest was plundered anew by blistering guilt and confusion forming a new illness in her guts, one that didn't allow the nausea to subside. Frankie was either clutching for dear life onto the porcelain ring of the toilet or decomposing in her bed with her eyes shut, even when light filled the room from her parents quietly prying it open to check if she was still alive.

There was never supposed to be an gargantuan dilemma getting in Frankie's way. It felt like when you were having a plentifully good day, planning on resuming by going out with a few of your dearest friends, but the moment you went to slip on your favorite pair of shoes, you realized too late that your cat decided to take a piss in them. A fresh, disturbingly warm piss. Then, when you went to grab your cat to shame her for her actions, she took a rake at your arm and left you with stinging battle wounds that wouldn't stop bleeding until well after you were forced to cancel your plans last minute to steep in your now dampened mood. That was the only way Frankie could describe it; and worse, despite the less than favorable actions of a friend, it wasn't enough to spoil any of the affection.

Geralyn wasn't at fault for what happened. Hell, she was intoxicated as Frankie and more than likely wasn't thinking the way her sober mind would. They hadn't touched, their lips never met, only eyes and linked desires they openly explored beside each other, and it blossomed within them from viewing an erotic video that was bound to turn on any teenager with raging hormones. Frankie wouldn't consider herself an overly sexual being, finding that fucking was too complicated and uncomfortable at times, but she couldn't deny her urges. Geralyn must've been no exception to that, it was clear in the way her hand moved after it dove into her underwear . . . her fingers crooked at the perfect angle . . . sinking deeply inside herself to locate the spot that caused her back to arch and her lips to fall open in a breathy whine Frankie could still—

Frankie turned her miserable head to release a hoarse scream into her pillow and considered smothering herself under it just to silence the thoughts overpowering her. As she screamed her throat raw and her face was flushed red, Frankie decided there was no other option for her, for either of them. If life was going to resume, if Frankie couldn't face her shame and come to terms with the tangle of thick emotion causing things she once enjoyed to become a drag, she needed to forget. There was no other way to forget than to pretend it never happened in the first place; she could blame her intoxication and claim the memories of the party were far too cloudy to decipher, the most important part would be completely lost to her if Geralyn mentioned it. Frankie couldn't give herself to the unknown. She lived far too long with a painted image of her destiny for it to suddenly be obscured. She was too late; Frankie's path was decided for her and to readjust everything on the brink of closing a chapter of her life would result in disaster.

Come Monday morning, Frankie did her best to compose herself. She dressed nicely in an appealing shade of blue that complimented her skin tone, taking a flat iron to her hair and applying her makeup a touch more impressively than ordinary. She strapped on her favorite pair of ankle boots with the heels taking her height up a subtle notch and tugged on a stylish leather jacket saturated in the scent of her favorite summer themed perfume leaving behind a pleasant waft of watermelon and a spray of strawberry nectar. She arrived to school as nonchalantly as possible, at least in the way it mattered, which was in her stride and expression. Frankie perked her chin up a bit more and winked flirtatiously at Ray when she passed by him on her way to meet with her friends the way she would if Geralyn had never brought along her impending doom rumbling in the horizon. Frankie battled against the storm with pure sunshine wielded as her weapon, daring the clouded thunder to knit across her skies if it thought it held enough power to consume her.

Frankie was sprung up like the fiercest warrior to ever cross the earth so valiantly, until she was frozen solid by a familiar voice calling out to her, encompassing her. Frankie's entire body reacted to it, stiffening as she stilled to a halt in the hallway. Frankie bit the inside of her cheek harshly, almost yanking her legs forward forcefully to get herself out of a situation sneaking up on her, but she was too late. The sound of high heels clicking against the ground grew louder until they were directly behind Frankie and a gentle hand was laid across her shoulder to gain her attention. Frankie tasted blood from the way she ripped at the soft flesh at her inner cheek. If she could just take a minute to fucking breathe and prepare herself, then maybe she wouldn't be sweating bullets already, but life just wasn't keen on treating her kindly as of late, wasn't it?

Frankie spun around with caution. Her eyes rounded at the sight of Geralyn's bare face and carelessly brushed hair tumbling over her black blouse. Her expression was solemn, which never meant anything good. When Frankie met her eyes, Geralyn fidgeted at the same time as Frankie's warrior montage crumbled and set aflame. She was back to square one; a peculiar pain in her chest, a hurricane in her gut, and a tremble in her fingers.

"Hey." Geralyn muttered. She wiped her palms along the sides of her tight blue jeans and licked her lips like an anxious habit.

Frankie pressed her lips together tight before remembering the plan. Despite the pounding rhythm of her heart, Frankie spread her lips into a forced smile, squinting her eyes at the ends to make it more sincere.

"Good morning." Frankie shifted her weight onto her left leg when she realized her voice was way too high pitched. She leveled it when she spoke next. "Still hungover?"

Geralyn blinked in confusion for a second before it dawned on her. She chuckled softly and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Not really. I'm kind of an expert at knocking out hangovers. Intensive research and all that."

"I still feel a little gross. I'd say I won't ever touch a drink again, but I know that's not true." Frankie wasn't fully exaggerating, but the more she emphasized, the easier it would be for Geralyn to think Frankie had no recollection of what happened between them.

Geralyn's brows puckered. She searched Frankie's expression and Frankie struggled to keep as aloof as possible, keeping her gaze steady no matter how it made her chest flutter and fill with a brand new ache to add on top of the growing list of problems Frankie was sprouting.

"So, um. I wanted to talk to you about the party." Geralyn lowered her voice. She eyes darted around a few times and she stepped closer. Frankie held her breath not to capture a whiff of her perfume she already felt grazing her nostrils like a sweet greeting. She slammed the door in its face instead of bidding it a benevolent welcome.

"It was great, wasn't it?" Frankie fluidly acted as aloof as possible, increasing Geralyn's confusion. "I don't remember half of it, but I do remember the first half and how fun it was."

Geralyn's face gradually smoothed over with realization. Her throat moved as she swallowed and she casted her eyes downward, a swell of silence following. Frankie pretended to be puzzled by it.

"What's wrong?" Frankie asked, "Did you not have that great of a time?"

Geralyn was the one caught stammering that time. For a moment, guilt turned Frankie's stomach, because her act was vividly paying off so Geralyn was at a loss for words. Frankie willed it to subside or else she'd lose her mind facing the reality of their actions.

"Uh — it's not that, I had too good of a time, I think." Geralyn swayed around her words with an airy chuckle and a hint of a smile that didn't touch her eyes flickering up to search Frankie's face. As though she tried to find the memory somewhere in her eyes, peeking out through the mask. "I guess you don't remember the second half at all, huh?"

"Should I?" Frankie's nervous laughter wasn't short of how she felt inside, brewing with anxiety over the possibility Geralyn would remind her and she'd be trapped in an inescapable situation.

"Not — not really, I guess." Geralyn rubbed her lips together and stared over Frankie's shoulder instead. "I blew chunks upstairs in one of Ray's plants. And I almost broke my ankle in my platforms. Probably not the best shoe choice for a girl planning on getting wasted, haha."

Frankie's turning stomach tightened and became so acidic that she felt it all the way in her throat sealing shut. Geralyn wasn't facing the truth either; Frankie may have made it too easy for her to tuck herself away in a reality where nothing happened between them. Geralyn must've believed it was nothing but a drunken mistake as well.

"Jesus, I probably did the same at one point." Frankie's laughter was a breath too weak as she brushed her bangs aside. "It's all good in case you're embarrassed. I blacked out or something."

"That's good," Geralyn's voice lowered to a soft murmur and she refused to meet Frankie's gaze, "Let's save ourselves the humiliation."

"Yeah. I agree." Frankie's mouth tasted bitter as she tore into the tender skin at the inside of her cheek.

"I'll catch you later, Frankie." Geralyn's lips tugged upwards at the corners and finally looked into Frankie's eyes. The trace of sadness within her eyes bulldozed through Frankie's well-being and make her reconsider every decision she ever made. Geralyn brushed Frankie's shoulder with her gentle hand as she breezed past her and carried on down the hallway with her head lowered to watch her steps. Frankie turned and stared until Geralyn disappeared around the corner down a separate hallway.

Frankie should've been relieved that neither of them acknowledged what occurred despite obviously having the memory of every second. Yet, being as hypocritical and selfish as possible, Frankie couldn't help the note of hurt swelling in her chest that Geralyn quickly let it go instead of willing Frankie to remember, recounting the moment to her and asking if it was only an error or if it meant something more. Maybe Frankie wanted closure, maybe she wanted to know someone like Geralyn could want her even though Frankie was swearing with all her might that she could never return the affections. But, Frankie wasn't so certain about anything anymore. Her feelings, thoughts, interests. Nothing was the same since Geralyn planted her own paradise beside Frankie's and tempted her with the neon lights glowing underneath the beauty of sunken treasure under pure white sands.

Moving on numb legs, Frankie turned away to disappear into the girl's restroom, fumbling into one of the stalls as her emotions collapsed once again. Only that time, there was no compassionate starlight to come and rescue her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one part remains and it’s gonna be big. I hope you’re like it so far, I’ve really enjoyed writing this, it’s different from my other stuff!


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